


All These Lights

by MediaWhore



Series: Sweet Dreams (Are Made of These) [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (briefly for heat-related purposes), (heat related), Alpha Louis, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Harry, Consensual Underage Sex, Dubious Consent, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Harry/OMC - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Harry, Self-Esteem Issues, The X Factor Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-26 06:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4993969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MediaWhore/pseuds/MediaWhore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“People vote for alphas because they’re strong and they’re not only beautiful but also mesmerizing. They make you want to give them all of your attention, make you want to beg for some of theirs back. They’re shiny, oozing sex appeal and a commanding presence, and people always want more and more. Omegas are enticing too for sure, but it’s not the same. It makes people uncomfortable. It doesn’t make them want to root for you.” </p><p>the canon fic where Harry is an omega and dreams come with a price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [harlequinnharry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harlequinnharry/gifts).



> So, this was meant to be written for the omega harry fic exchange but life got ridiculously hectic for me. Apologies for the completely absurd delay and a particular thank you to Harlequinnharry for the lovely prompts. I know this doesn't fit it exactly, but hopefully you'll like it anyway :)
> 
> A special thanks to @painting--words and @itreachedthatpoint for the hand holding. God knows I needed it... 
> 
> I know next to nothing about the X-Factor or the music industry and I took a few liberties when it was convenient in terms of the timeline so if you're looking for extreme accuracy, I'm afraid you won't find it here!

**_ April 2010 _ **

_Auditions_

 

It's hot and humid in Manchester that day but the buzzing coming from the large crowd and Harry's nerves are the only two things he's fully aware of. The whole process is a bit of a surreal experience. Harry can't quite understand it. It's like he got stuck with his head underwater and everything except the erratic beating of his heart is coming up fuzzy and distorted. He can't quite believe that he's here.

 

It's not that Harry isn't a confident person. He likes to think that he is, if only a little. He's a good student, a kind person, and a decent singer if his mother's compliments are to be trusted. But there _is_ a difference between messing around with his mates and singing in front of thousands of people including Simon Cowell.

 

He's so excited and nervous he barely feels tired despite waking up at the crack of dawn for the drive and having the hardest time falling asleep the night before. He's powered by the energy of all the other artists in line, by his mother's obvious pride and support, by his sister teasing him lovingly as they wait.

 

He can do this.

 

It's terrifying is the thing. Doing it as an omega. The show has a blind audition process of course, which has been called incredibly progressive more times than Harry can count. (He personally thinks it's bloody common sense but who is he to comment really?) No omega has ever won, though. Of course not. They can't seem to quite make it, can't seem to appeal to the public enough. They're not striking like alphas, with their beautiful timbre and commanding stage presence. It doesn't hurt to try, though. That's what his mother keeps saying. Somewhere between the fifteenth and twentieth time, Harry decided she was right and that he was going to be the first. Dream big or something.

 

It's just ever since presenting eight months ago, Harry's been feeling like it's doors after doors closing in his face like everybody has this one expectation of who is he now and what he can achieve. He'd never noticed before, never really thought about it. There are no other omegas in his immediate family, no one's experience he could have based himself on. Now, the rude comments stare at him brightly, like they've been highlighted just for him. It's all he can see.

 

 _Needy_.

 

 _Delicate_.

 

 _Fragile_.

 

 _Fuckable_.

 

_This is who you are. This is what the world thinks. Have it over and over again, everywhere you look, just in case you ever forget._

 

So it's scary. It's scary as hell, scarier than anything he's ever attempted and Harry feels brave just standing in that line, feels proud waiting for his turn and feeling ready to prove everyone wrong.

 

He's going to be the first.

 

He's doused himself in pheromone suppressing deodorant, made sure he smells like beta and nothing else, even lied on his application, ticking that _not presented yet_ box. No one will see it as the act of defiance he means it at, but Harry will know. He'll know and he'll show them.

 

He could sing just as well as all those alphas he sees in the magazines with a bit of practice and the right support. At least, he hopes Simon will think so, he thinks while chewing nervously on his index as the line slowly moves forward.

 

Dermot isn't far, making his way through the crowd and interviewing all the other hopefuls. Harry’s heart skips a beat when he notices the proximity.

 

"Nervous sweetie?" his mum asks, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

 

"M' excited," Harry mumbles in reply before giving her what he hopes is a confident smile. He has to practice a bit if he wants it to look convincing on camera.

 

"It's gonna go great," Anne says with a warm smile and her soft assured smell makes it hard not to believe her fully.

 

Harry never knows if it's because she's his mother or because she's an alpha that she can convince him so easily every time.

 

"Hopefully, you won't fall on your face when you walk on stage," Gemma snorts teasingly and Harry has a flash of their dinner last night, of the plate he broke while trying to put it in the sink.

 

"Shut it," Harry mutters, pushing her shoulder softly.

 

She cackles at his reaction, her body barely shifting from the shove. "I'm just saying," she adds with a shrug. "Knowing you it could happen."

 

"It's going to be perfectly fine," Anne replies reassuringly, pressing a thumb between Harry' shoulder blades.

 

And it is. It's more than fine: Harry gets through.

 

He smiles his way through the audition, babbles about baking and college in a way that Anne and Gemma assure him was charming, and he impresses the judges enough with his acapella version of _Isn't She Lovely_ to get to Bootcamp.

 

And that's how it all starts really. That hot humid Manchester day when Louis notices him in the crowd, before they'd even met, before they knew what they would come to mean to each other. That hot humid day when Simon sees something in him.

 

**_ July 2010 _ **

_Bootcamp_

 

Bootcamp, for Harry, is overwhelming at best. It's incredible and amazing of course... He’s surrounded by so many artists, people like him who dared to dream and do something about it. It inspires him, makes his heart feel three sizes too big for his chest but it scares him too. A good scare, though, the kind that pushes him along, makes him want to do better and show off and impress.

 

It's hard, though. He's surrounded by so many alphas... All the time. Harry's not really used to it. There's his family of course and at school, a bit since a couple of his mates have presented, but it's different being all packed together 24\7 during the most intense days of his life so far. They're strangers too, with overpowering smells, and they make Harry feel breathless and small. He's glad he's had his heat a week back and he's clear until his next cycle in a few of months. The mere thought of dealing with it in this environment makes him shudder in fear in the tiny bedroom he has to share with an alpha.

 

~*~

 

Harry is in the bathroom sniffing at his armpit to make sure he smells beta enough when it happens. He catches the most delicious smell he's ever smelled. It’s hard to put into to words, but if pressed, Harry would say it's like warm caramel and a hot summer day. It curls pleasantly in his nostrils and makes him feel warm and safe like he's bathing in a hot spring, floating away without a care. Harry feels himself get embarrassingly wet and it's the first time it's really happened outside of heat, the first time with a real person there and not while watching a dirty movie. Harry blushes, feeling the heat radiating from his cheeks as he turns slowly around to face the bathroom's new occupant.

 

It’s a boy - an alpha - who’s standing there, legs opened wide, nonchalantly commanding, looking at Harry with curious eyes and an amused smirk on his face.

 

“Oops,” Harry mumbles, letting go of his polo, trying to act like he wasn’t just trying to smell himself.

 

“Hi,” the boy replies with a small chuckle. “Harry, right?” he asks straight away, rising an interrogative eyebrow.

 

His voice is light, airy, soft around Harry’s name and it’s pathetic how it makes Harry’s heart skip a beat just like that. It doesn’t help that this alpha is absolutely gorgeous, like one of Harry’s deepest fantasy but real, with soft feathery hair and a compact body.

 

Harry doesn’t reply, doesn’t trust his voice not to shake, so he nods, wide-eyed and stuck in place, unable to move from the middle of the bathroom.

 

“I saw your audition mate,” the boy continues, seemingly unaware of Harry’s existential crisis. “It was sick, you’re definitely gonna get through.”

 

Harry’s entire body warms at the praise, a second wave of wetness spreading between his legs. He’s never been more grateful for the strength of his pheromones cancelling spray.

 

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugs. “There are a lot of talented people here.”

 

“Yeah, but with your voice and them curls? Who could say no to you?” the boy says with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle.

 

They’re blue. They’re blue and they’re beautiful, Harry feels a little fuzzy looking into them. He has the sudden, inexplicable feeling that he’s invincible, that he can do this, that he can get through anything. He believed it before but now, in this second, in this bathroom, it doesn’t feel like a belief anymore. It feels like a certainty. After all, if this beautiful boy thinks so, why shouldn’t he? Why should he ever feel doubt?

 

He preens in response, feeling self-conscious about the way he puffs his chest and passes a hand through his hair, yet unable to stop himself from doing it.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“No problem, I’m Louis by the way. Louis Tomlinson,” Louis says, introducing himself and offering a dainty, yet strong, hand to Harry.

 

“Louis,” he repeats, testing the word as he grips the hand back, trying to convince himself the electricity he feels going up his arm is nothing but a coincidence, his biology going a bit mad from the contact with an alpha.

 

“Hey, can you give me your autograph?” Louis asks bluntly.

 

Harry laughs in response. “What?” he says incredulously.

 

“Yeah,” Louis nods with enthusiasm. “And a picture! So I can say I knew you back then…. Once you’re a global superstar.”

 

“That’s ridiculous,” Harry blushes with a giggle.

 

“Oi!” Louis says as he gets closer and takes out his phone. “Don’t call me ridiculous. It might be worth a fortune in a few years… I’ll auction this off on eBay and buy me a house won’t I?”

 

Harry shakes his head in disbelief as he lets himself be wrapped under Louis’ arm and smiles wide for the picture, giving it his best, dimples out and everything.

 

“This is crazy,” Harry laughs afterwards, taking the McDonald’s receipt Louis hands him to sign.

 

“S’just the beginning, innit?” Louis smiles softly at him.

 

And turns out, it is.

 

~*~

 

It takes him a while to understand. Simon’s voice is echoing in his mind but none of the words seem to make sense. Because Simon is saying that this is it, that they’re done and that seems impossible to Harry as he stands on that stage, heart beating wildly in his chest and hands shaking with nerves. It seems impossible because they haven’t said his name yet. They haven’t called him, haven’t told him he’s through and surely that’s a mistake. Surely, they can’t be done yet without Harry.

 

It’s only when they’re walked off stage, huge cameras trailed on their faces, filming every second of the remaining boys’ humiliation, that Harry really gets it. He wishes he was strong enough not to cry for the tv crew, not to hand them this dramatic, gut-wrenching vision for the show but he can’t.  

 

“I’m really gutted,” he manages to whisper shakily to the camera before taking his beanie off to wipe at his eyes furiously, a mantra of _stop crying stop crying stop crying_ running in circle in his mind. This is what he’s going to be remembered for. This moment, right here, is his x-factor legacy. The pathetic omega who couldn’t make it through and didn’t even have the backbone to exit with grace.

 

Harry feels a wave of nausea hit him and he shakes his head at the camera, putting a hand in front of his face as he walks towards the bathroom to call his mother.

 

“Hey, baby!” Anne’s chirpy voice answers after only one ring. “How did it go?”

 

He doesn’t even manage to say hi, a sob escaping his lips when he opens his mouth to try.

 

“Oh, darling, what happened?”

 

Harry shakes his head, sliding down the wall to sit in the stall, like some sort of teen drama cliché. “I didn’t get through,” he says shakily, hitting the wall with his head.

 

Anne makes a comforting noise through the receiver. “Baby I’m so sorry.”

 

“Was stupid to try anyway,” Harry mutters angrily.

 

“What are you talking about?” Anna says. “You did so well.”

 

Harry shrugs, aware that his mum can’t see him right now, but unable to express all the hurt and disappointment he’s feeling. They are no words and he’s not sure there ever will be.

 

“Okay well, we’re gonna come and pick you up and we can talk about it then, all right? I love you and I’m so proud of you.”

 

Harry doesn’t reply, doesn’t have the strength to be grateful for the support even though he knows he should. He just hangs up and lets out a growl of frustration into his hands, his mobile tightly clutched between his fingers.

 

“Such an idiot,” he mumbles with a sniff, rolling his eyes at himself.

 

There's a bang on the bathroom door that makes Harry jump a little, the voice of a disgruntled P.A coming through.

 

"Anyone in here? They need all the boys to film a segment."

 

 _Great_ , Harry thinks as he gets up, walks out of the stall and gets to the sink to put a bit of water on his face, trying to hide how red his eyes look. "Just what I need," he tells his reflection with an eye roll.

 

More filming, more cameras, is absolutely the last thing he wants, the last he needs. He just wants to go back home, wrap himself in a blanket and watch a sad movie cuddled up with his cat, wants to forget this whole thing ever happened, wants to forget he ever thought an omega like him could go far in this competition.

 

Harry's stumbling a bit as he gets out of the bathroom, a mixture of nervous, irritated and sad boiling in his belly.

 

"Okay," the same P.A from before yells out to the bunch of boys assembled backstage. "The judges want to see some of you back on the stage," she announces, eyes fixed on her clipboard. Harry's heart jumps into his throat as soon as the words leave her mouth.

 

Could it mean...? He shakes his head, trying to mentally convince himself that it's silly to hope when his name hasn't even been called yet.

 

"Harry Styles," the woman calls the minute he thinks it and he lets out a shaky breath in response, distancing himself from the group, a shiver of pleasure running through him when she names the next contestant. "Louis Tomlinson."

 

She names three other boys before saying that's it and starting to lead them to the stage. Harry's hands are shaking. He has no idea what's going on as they're walking amongst crew people and overstepping various cables, but he knows it's exciting. Scary and exciting.

 

"Alright, gimme a sec," the woman stops them just as they're about to walk on stage before leaving to talk to the judges.

 

"What do you think they want?" the Irish one asks. Harry's pretty sure his name is Niall, has seen him play guitar all over bootcamp, seen him hanging out with almost everyone there was to hang out with.

 

All the other boys shrug and Harry can't help but feel reassured when he notices that despite all of them being alphas, they seem as nervous and scared as he is.

 

"They probably just want to upset us more," Harry can't help but blurt out. He might be paranoid, but he can't shake this feeling that they're making them stew here just to humiliate them further, to make a good bit of telly off of them, show the whole of Britain how the X-Factor broke their hearts.

 

"What do you mean?" Liam asks, frowning. He's done this before, Harry knows. He should get it.

 

"You know," Harry scoffs. "Young boys, all crying 'cause they didn't get through... A good bit of telly, innit?" His voice shakes on that last bit and he feels a reassuring hand on his hip, a thumb digging on the bit of flesh there.

 

Harry doesn't need to turn around to know it's Louis. He can sense it, smell it, straight away. It should probably bother him to be touched like that by a stranger, an alpha nonetheless. Somehow it doesn't. It doesn't feel inappropriate or wrong, doesn't feel pressuring or creepy. It's a gentle touch, a little hello. _I'm here; we're in this together._

 

"We don't know that," Niall argues optimistically. “Maybe they changed their minds?” he continues, awe in his voice at the mere thought of it.

 

Niall is about to say something else when the woman comes back, a serious look on her face. Harry has a hard time believing this is going to be a good thing.  

 

“Off you go then,” she says, pushing at Harry’s shoulder. He gulps before taking a step under the spotlights.

 

The first thing he notices is the girls walking on from the other side of the stage. There are four of them and they look as nervous as Harry’s bunch, lining up in front of the judges and holding hands tightly. Harry stops once he reaches the white line marking the spot on their side of the stage, automatically wrapping an arm around Niall’s shoulder, heart beating furiously in his chest.

 

It all happens very fast then.

 

Nicole says things like _too talented to let go_ and _we had an idea to create two separate groups_ and Harry’s heart feels ready to burst, his ears ringing, and the cheers of the new members of his band echoing in his mind. He’s jumping up and down, they all are, and suddenly, without knowing how, Louis’ jumping in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck. They’re screaming their enthusiasm into each other’s ears, wrapped in an embrace that should be too intimate for strangers, but actually feels just perfect.

 

Harry knows that it should concern him, but for now, he chooses to let himself enjoy the moment, let himself be carried away by the joy he’s sharing with his four new bandmates. His four new alpha bandmates.

 

~*~

 

They’re all still shaking by the time they’ve stepped off stage and are done filming segments about the newly formed bands.

 

“I can’t believe it,” Niall keeps saying over and over, a huge grin on his face.

 

“This is gonna be sick!” Louis says, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and smirking.

 

“We have so much to do,” Liam interjects loudly. “We need a band name, we need a song for judges house, we have to figure out practice time.”

 

“Woah,” Louis interrupts. “Let’s be happy for five minutes before we start worrying.”

 

“All the other bands have months of practice over us,” Liam argues. “I don’t wanna be sent back home.”

 

“Come on Liam,” Zayn smiles lazily. “We’re all gonna work hard. None of us wants to get sent back home again, we all know the feeling.”

 

“Yeah,” Harry agrees because he never wants to experience rejection like this again.

 

Those long minutes when he thought he would have to actually go home and face everyone after failing like that were the worst of his life.

 

“Before that, though, we can take a minute to be excited, yeah?” Zayn continues.

 

Liam laughs, a bit embarrassed. “Yeah,” he mumbles, eyes fixed to the ground. He giggles to himself. “Yeah, we can celebrate for a bit.”

 

“Band hug!” Niall yells, taking them all by surprise and wrapping his arms around Louis and Harry, forcing them into colliding with Liam and Zayn.

 

Harry giggles, burying his head into Louis’ neck. He has a good feeling about this. This could work.

 

“Okay,” Liam says after a couple of minutes. “Business now.”

 

Zayn and Louis share an amused look as they untangle themselves from the puppy pile they’ve created.

 

“Yeah,” Zayn agrees. “We have serious issues to address. Like, what are we gonna wear?”

 

“I was thinking more like what are we gonna sing?” Liam argues back.

 

“I love Louis’ shoes,” Niall replies, ignoring Liam’s statement with a small smirk. “We should all wear his shoes. Proper band unity.”

 

Zayn and Louis agree loudly, patting Niall on the back while Liam stares at them annoyed. Harry doesn’t want to take sides this early on, but he can’t help the small giggle that escapes him when he sees Liam’s pout.

 

“It’s not funny,” Liam mumbles. “This is serious boys.”

 

“Oh come on Liam,” Louis says. “We’re just teasing ya! Good old laddy banter between bandmates.”

 

“Still doesn’t help us figure out what we’ll sing or when we’ll practice. Even where we’ll practice. We only have a month to get to the same level as bands who have been together for years!”

 

Liam is getting worked up and worried, voice getting shrilled and panicky. It’s during moments like these where Harry really hates being an omega because he can feel Liam’s rising anxiety sticking to his skin like glue, can taste it on the tip of his tongue and it doesn’t belong to him at all but suddenly he’s the one worried about song choices and scheduling.

 

“I know where we can practice,” Harry ends up blurting to put an end to Liam’s downward spiral.

 

He doesn’t technically have a place since he hasn’t asked Robin but he can hardly imagine his parents saying no to anything X-Factor related. Especially not after he tells them the good news that he’s still in the competition.

 

“You do?” Louis asks, focusing all of his attention on Harry, which is a bit overwhelming, to say the least, but he’s going to have to get used to it if they’re going to be in a band together.

 

It takes him a fraction of a second too long to compose himself enough to nod his reply to Louis. “My step-dad has this bungalow? We could stay there for a bit...? It’s really nice and we wouldn’t be in any of our family’s way y’know?”

 

“That’s great,” Niall exclaims. “We’ve just got to figure out some dates and it is on baby!”

 

~*~

 

By the time Harry’s mum arrives to pick him up, all of the other boys have gone already, leaving him with hugs and their phone numbers. Harry's been munching on crisps for the past ten minutes and texting the guys about plans for their meet-ups when he gets a text outside of their group conversation.

 

_I’m really glad we got put together :)_

 

It’s from Louis and Harry’s so preoccupied with not knowing what to reply that he jumps at the sound of his mother’s voice.

 

"Hey baby," Anne says, dragging him into a suffocating hug, her calmness and love seeping into Harry's skin as he cuddles close. "How are you feeling?" she asks, her voice filled with compassion.

 

Harry bites his lips and hides his face into her shoulder, trying hard not to laugh. How does he feel? Elated? Overjoyed? Terrified? Excited? No word seems strong or encompassing enough.

He can't believe he got through, that his dream is still alive.

It’s not quite what he originally wanted, not quite the omega statement he had hoped, but it’s a chance still, a chance to make his mark and it seems almost too good to be true after being rejected like that. In the end, that’s the thought that makes him start laughing into his mother’s blouse.

 

"Oh no, don't cry sweetheart."

 

Harry shakes his head and pushes her slowly away, his big dimpled smile betraying his true feelings.

 

"Harry?"  She looks a bit lost at his reaction.

 

"I got through," Harry nods and he feels himself tearing up again. It's quite incredible to think that a little over an hour ago, he felt the lowest he had ever felt in his life, and now the world has opened a brand new range of possibilities he had never even considered before.

 

"What?" Anne gasps, letting go of his shoulder to press her hand to her mouth in shock.

 

"I got put in a band," Harry explains, letting go of his mother and fumbling for his phone, showing her the band picture they took before saying goodbye to each other.

 

"A band?" she asks. There's a little frown appearing between her eyebrows, barely perceptible to the untrained eyes but that Harry recognizes straight away.

 

"It's alright, the boys are great. I think it's going to be amazing. I told them we could practice at the bungalow; do you think Robin would mind? We have so much work to do, judges' houses is only in a month and we haven't even sung together yet... I figured it'd be a perfect place where we could get to know each other better y'know?"

 

"Harry, slow down," Anne laughs.

 

"Sorry," he shrugs, leaning in for a second hug. "M' just really excited."

 

"I can see that," Anne agrees. "Come on, let's get your suitcase in the car and we can talk on the way home."

 

 _Yeah :D_ is what Harry finally replies to Louis once he’s put his seatbelt on. It doesn’t feel strong enough for what he’s feeling, but for now, it’ll have to do.

 

**_ August 2010 _ **

_The Bungalow_

 

It’s not that Harry is nervous about the boys coming over, but he can’t stop thinking that everything, including him, needs to be perfect for this first official band outing and that thought never fails to make him feel a bit queasy. He’s started to clean up each room of the bungalow again every time said thought enters his head while he waits for his bandmates to arrive and the whole place is pretty much pristine now. Harry is quite glad that his mother dropped him off a few days earlier to get everything ready and that he’s completely alone. He’s pretty sure Gemma would never let him live it down if she witnessed his slow descent into domestic insanity.

 

When the first of them finally arrives, Harry’s worked himself up into such frenzy that he has to actually take a couple of slow breaths in front of the mirror before answering the door. He’s not proud of it, but this is such a new and scary adventures that he can’t help being all over the place.

 

“Hiiii!” Harry says happily when he finally gathers enough courage to open the front door to a grinning Niall.

 

He’s wearing a backpack almost as big as he is, a guitar case in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other. Harry chuckles when he notices it.

 

“Hey!” Niall replies enthusiastically, colliding with Harry and wrapping his arms around him, the guitar case digging in the back of his neck.

 

Despite it, it’s not an uncomfortable hug. There’s something nice about the uninhibited joy Niall puts into everything that makes physical contact with him fun and Harry uses the opportunity to sniff at his shoulder, taking a deep breath of the fresh cut grass and lemonade scent that emanates from his skin. It’s not exactly polite to sniff around like this, but Harry’s curious and it is one of the best ways to get to know someone after all.

 

Niall’s smell isn’t overpowering like Louis’. It’s sweet and lingering, stays on Harry’s mind after they’ve stopped touching; a comfortable, happy scent that he’s sure most people remember fondly after Niall’s been long gone. It reveals so much that Harry’s relieved his is masked by a mixture of his suppressors and a healthy dose of the pheromone cancelling spray he now considers his best friend.

 

“So, ready to get to know each other Styles?” Niall teases when he finally takes a step back, handing the case and the bottle to him.

 

“You certainly are,” Harry smirks, raising an eyebrow towards the alcohol. “Liam is gonna hate it.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Niall shrugs. “How else are a bunch of lads like us supposed to bond?”

 

Harry laughs and shakes his head. “Come on, let’s put your stuff in one of the bedrooms.”

~*~

 

By the time Louis arrives last, Harry is pleasantly buzzed, sitting on the floor, back pressed against the sofa, Liam and Zayn in front of him, their legs stretched around him. After initial reticence from Liam, they’ve finally convinced him that letting loose to get to know each other on the first evening was nothing bad and they started drinking while waiting for the last member of their band.

 

“Well, this looks cozy lads,” Louis teases when he enters the living room, Niall following him and carrying all of the bags.

 

Harry feels himself automatically beaming at the sound of Louis’ voice.

 

“Hey,” he says slowly, raising a hand to wave his fingers at Louis.

 

“Hey,” Louis replies with a laugh, waving back as he takes a step over all the stretched legs to sprawl on the sofa.

 

Harry tips his head back to stare at him when he feels a hand passing through his hair, trying his best not to purr loudly in response. He can do this. He can be chill. Louis has propped himself up on one hand, one of his feet is dangling from the cushion and he’s using his big toe to poke at Zayn’s ankle.

 

“Alright, where’s my share of the booze then?” he asks teasingly, giving Harry a wink when their eyes meet.

 

It should be awkward. They’ve all only just met and they shouldn’t be teasing each other like this, but it goes without saying like it doesn’t really matter that this is only the second time they’ve seen each other in the flesh. They sort of get on without really trying. Harry isn’t sure if it’s the competition that binds them together that makes it so easy or if this is something that runs deeper that will reveal itself in due time, but there’s a part of him that’s really looking forward to finding out. The same part of him that thinks maybe he doesn’t have to hide his gender from them as well as the public, the part of him that hopes they could support him.

 

“And more importantly, where’s Liam’s?” Louis continues while Niall drops himself on the sofa’s arm.

 

They all laugh while Liam shakes his head. “I warned you all on Skype,” Liam protests. “I have kidney stuff, I can’t drink.”

 

“Kidney stuff,” Zayn repeats with a snort. “Seems pretty vague to me.”

 

Liam gives him a warning look and Harry would intervene to stop the fight, but he doesn’t feel any tension coming from anyone, especially not Liam. He looks annoyed and is giving Zayn a frown but he smells pleased, like being teased and being treated like a part of the gang is something that makes him feel happy.

 

“Yeah, like maybe he made it up,” Harry offers and he smiles to himself when it makes Louis cackle.

 

Liam sighs loudly but there’s a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth. “I didn’t make it up,” he argues. “But I can have a little bit, as long as it’s reasonable. Doctor’s orders.”

 

“Yesssssss!” Louis yells, punching the air and Harry frowns at him, nudging him with his head until he starts petting Harry’s hair again.

 

“Alright, now that Louis’ here and Liam said yes, let’s get properly drunk,” Niall announces.

 

It’s not until they’re properly smashed hours later, after too many shots and salty snacks, that they start talking about their genders and every single hope Harry had of being honest is tarnished.

 

“This is gonna sound awful, but I’m really glad we’re all alphas,” Liam admits around two am.

 

This must be what being stabbed in the heart feels like, Harry figures, a wave of shame engulfing him.

 

“That _is_ awful,” Zayn laughs awkwardly with big shocked eyes before taking another sip. “But yeah, I mean… I get it. It certainly won’t hurt us when the lives start,” he agrees with pursed lips. “People vote for alphas…” he adds with a shrug.

 

They do is the thing. People vote for alphas because they’re strong and they’re not only beautiful but also mesmerising. They make you want to give them all of your attention, make you want to beg for some of theirs back. They’re shiny, oozing sex appeal and a commanding presence, and people always want more and more. Omegas are enticing too for sure, but it’s not the same. It makes people uncomfortable. It doesn’t make them want to root for you.

 

“Even at judges house… We’ll have the advantage over mixed groups,” Niall adds with a drunken nod.

 

Harry wishes he could disappear, just vanish from the world until the conversation is over. And to think he was considering telling them the truth about himself…

 

“Well, technically Hazza hasn’t presented yet,” Louis adds, bringing the focus of the conversation to him and for the first time since they’ve met, Harry doesn’t have a positive thing to think about him. “Family of alphas, though,” he continues, smirking at Harry. “S’not hard to guess where this is going,” he slurs his words.

 

They all turn towards him and he feels himself reddening. “Fingers crossed,” he croaks awkwardly and they all laugh in response while Louis grips his shoulder tightly, his thumb digging into Harry’s skin.

 

“Shots!” Niall calls out, raising his glass and Liam, Louis and Zayn all cheers at the word.

 

 _I can never tell them_ , Harry thinks bitterly.

 

~*~

 

The next morning, Harry wakes up with a headache and a vague sense of hopelessness that lasts for half a minute before he remembers his bandmates’ comments and the hurt becomes sharp and focused again.

 

“Right,” he mumbles to himself, sandwiched between Louis and Niall on the mattress they drunkenly dragged from the upstairs bedrooms around three am.

 

“Somebody tell Harry to stop shouting,” Zayn complains somewhere on his left and the thought of the others feeling at least a little bit like shit too does please Harry a bit and he can’t help the giggle that escapes him in response.

 

“Hush,” Louis tells him sleepily, wrapping an arm around his waist and cuddling close, his nose tickling the skin of Harry’s neck. “Sleep,” he orders in a whisper.

 

~*~

 

The next time he wakes up, Harry does feel slightly better. His headache has gone for starters and Louis is still all pressed up against him, beautiful and smelling delicious. He’s almost tempted to fall right back to sleep in the comfort of his arms, but it’s a creepy thought to have about a bandmate and it’s past noon already.

 

It takes him a while to untangle himself from Louis, his grip too strong and insistent on Harry’s tee shirt, but he finally manages after five minutes of silently struggling. He goes to the bathroom for a wee, brush his teeth twice and gets rid of his unfortunate boner, before changing into another casual combination of tee and joggers and walking to the kitchen to start working on breakfast.

 

The smell of eggs and bacon is eventually what wakes the rest of his band and they trickle into the kitchen one by one, rubbing at their eyes sleepily and looking ruffled.

 

“Are you making breakfast?” Niall gasps.

 

Harry shrugs before nodding shyly, hoping he’s not giving himself away too much. “Figured you’d be hungry.”

 

“Oh my god, you’re the best,” Niall beams, slowly making his way to Harry to wrap him in a hug.

 

Harry laughs and tries to brush it off. “It’s nothing.”

 

“Nah, mate,” Zayn says, sniffing at the stove. “This is sick. Where did you learn how to cook?”

 

“I guess it’s a family thing, we all like it and do it together a lot so.”

 

“Very cool,” Liam nods, taking a seat. “I can barely make toast.”

 

“Cereal’s me go to, innit?” Louis giggles, sitting in front of Liam. “This is great,” he adds towards Harry. “Best host ever!”

 

“Yeah!” the other boys all agree quickly and Harry figures he can live with this.

 

He can live with bandmates that never know he’s an omega for now. They’re not bad people, Harry is already quite fond of them already. It’s a learning process for everyone. Harry figures they’ll get through it together.

 

 _It’s going to work out_ , Harry thinks. _It has to_.

 

~*~

 

“Oh my god,” Zayn laughs when he sees Harry dropping his boxer on the side of the pool. “What are you doing?”

 

Harry smirks and shrug. “Skinning dipping!” he yells out before jumping in and splashing at a lounging Louis who claimed it was his “tanning time” when they all insisted he joins them in the pool.

 

“Oi!” Louis calls at Harry when he resurfaces, his torso glistening with water.

 

Harry shrugs innocently before smirking at Louis. He’s flirting. Harry is flirting pretty damn hard and he knows he should probably tone it down before the others notice, but he can’t help himself. Louis is fun. He’s pretty, kind and makes Harry feel all fuzzy inside. It’s the first time an alpha has ever made him feel like this.

 

“Oh, it is on Styles!” Louis yells before jumping after him.

 

Harry shrieks when Louis reaches him and starts trying to push his head into the water.

 

"Stop it!" he giggles, trying to stay afloat despite having a Louis-shaped weight draped across his back.

 

"Not until you apologise you, traitor!" Louis says with laboured breath.

 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Harry replies, trying to put his hand up in surrender.

 

"Alright, I guess I can forgive you," Louis says, wrapping his legs around Harry's waist, officially climbing on his back.

 

Harry is suddenly very aware of the fact that he's naked. He's naked and Louis is almost naked and they're pressed together. They're pressed together, Louis' naked chest against his back, like if they were ...

 

Harry squeaks, pushing Louis away from him before he gets too excited by the mental image of them together, of Louis thrusting into him.  

 

"Harold?" Louis scoffs when he gets his head out of the water with an offended look on his face.

 

"Let's play volleyball in the pool!" Harry says quickly in a high-pitched voice, turning his back to Louis and swimming towards the others, desperately trying to forget the way their skin felt against each other.

 

~*~

 

The first time they actually sing together is on the fourth night. They've spent the entire day playing football outside and pushing each other into the grass, giggling and shouting for hours, before fighting each other off for the first shower while Harry and Niall were given kitchen duty. They’ve eaten their burgers outside, sitting on the patio, and it’s only when Liam starts a fire that Niall runs inside to grab his guitar.

 

“Tada!” he exclaims once he gets back with the instrument.

 

“Oh, are we singing on this holiday?” Liam asks, pretending to be confused and Harry snorts.

 

“Couldn’t sing in harmony before knowing each other,” Louis argues and Niall nods, strumming aimlessly.

 

“We’ve seen Harry naked, I reckon that’s knowing someone enough for a few tunes,” Niall sings, giving Harry a wink.

 

“We got Liam drinking some vodka, I reckon that’s knowing someone enough for a few tunes,” Louis joins in.

 

“Ha, ha, ha,” Liam deadpans.

 

Niall gives him an angry look, strumming more purposefully until Liam shakes his head and sighs.

 

“I’m not sure Harry’s nudity will get us through Judges’ house,” he finally sings purposefully.

 

“Never know what Simon is into,” Harry shrugs with an exaggerated grimace and Niall stops playing abruptly, he and Zayn both snorting loudly at the comment.

 

“Gross,” Louis laughs. “Besides, if anyone is sleeping with Simon to get us ahead it’s Liam.”

 

“What?” Liam exclaims, a worried look on his face. “Why me? What have I done to deserve _that_?

 

“Well, you’re clearly his favourite. Mr. Standing Ovation.”

 

“You’re disgusting. Nobody is sleeping with anyone.”

 

“I’m just sayin’...” Louis singsongs, reaching forward to ruffle Liam’s hair.

 

“Well, unsay it please,” Liam begs.

 

He stands up and walks into the house silently as they glance at each other worriedly. It doesn’t take very long for him to come back though and the folder he’s holding answers all the questions they might have had.

 

“I’ve been thinking about it a bit,” Liam declares, sitting back down and opening his folder, revealing a pile of about thirty sheets. “Like, what song and who might sing what and everything.”

 

“Wow,” Zayn says. “Mate that’s awesome.”

 

Liam shrugs and even if Harry can’t see him blushing under the orange light of the fire, he can smell his embarrassment.

 

“I know I’m a bit… intense,” Liam admits, passing a hand through his hair. “I just want us to do well though so take a look see if there’s anything you’d think would fit,” he adds separating the pile in four and handing them one each.

 

“Oh!” Niall exclaims when he gets his. “This one! Let’s do Torn! I love that song! I can play it so we can start straight away!”

 

It takes them about two seconds to agree and suddenly they’re trying to harmonize to a Natalie Imbruglia song, focused and fitting in together seamlessly as if they were, somehow, always meant to. It makes Harry feels like they’ve always been on this path, walking through life together without knowing it, with the same passion, the same goals, burning brightly in their hearts. It’s that night, with his new band of alphas giggling their way through a song over and over again, their five heart beating in sync, that Harry comes up with the name of their band.

 

_Judges’ House_

 

“Are you nervous?” Louis asks him once they’ve all met up at the airport with the rests of the groups.

 

They're sitting in the uncomfortable chairs in the boarding area, waiting patiently to be called and whisked away to Spain where they’ll finally try to give the performance of a lifetime to impress their mentor.

 

Harry hasn’t stopped thinking about it. He’s been breathing it day and night, constantly rehearsing in his bedroom, skyping with the rest of the boys to figure out last minutes details and ideas. His own mother, who has been his biggest cheerleader throughout the competition, has actually banned him from singing Torn too loud, begging him to practice outside if he was going to sing it more than ten times in a row.

 

He might be a bit nervous.

 

"No," Harry shrugs, aiming for nonchalant but he’s fiddling with his clothes until Louis nudges him with his elbow.  "Yes," he adds sheepishly two seconds later.

 

Louis laughs at him with a fond look on his face. "Thought so. Me too. It's our one shot, you know? Gotta make it count."

 

"Yeah. Well, at least, it's good to know no matter how stressed we are, we're not as nervous as Zayn," Harry whispers, leaning into Louis and pointing at where Zayn is looking greenish in his seat.

 

Louis snorts. "He's never flown before don't be mean!"

 

"I'm just sayin'!" Harry laughs. He has to make a joke out of it otherwise, he’ll start focusing on the way Zayn’s nerves are sitting uncomfortably in his belly as well as his own and the last thing he needs is to be channelling his bandmates’ stress too. Not if he wants to perform well.

 

Louis looks pensive for a second before grinning diabolically. "We should totally mess with him."

 

~*~

 

"I can't believe you fell for that!" Louis giggles once they've taken off and have been flying for a while.

 

"It's not funny," Zayn says through gritted teeth, fingers gripping the arm of his seat.

 

"It was a little bit funny," Liam whispers next to him. He pats Zayn's arm softly to soothe the burn of his comment as soon as it's out of his mouth.

 

"I've never flown before," Zayn mutters and he's tensed and on edge, everyone can feel it, Harry, more than most.

 

"Your face, though!" Louis exclaims. "Like we were gonna do an actual full loop-"

 

“How was I supposed to know that?” Zayn snaps.

 

“Hey,” Louis says softly, reaching for him across the aisle, none of his earlier mockery present on his face, his eyes careful and kind instead. “We’re good yeah? It was just a joke but don’t worry. The flight is going well. It’s fine.”

 

Zayn seems to deflate at the comment, all of the anxiety leaving his body in a sigh after Louis’ reassurances. It’s kind of like magic; getting to witness the effect Louis can easily have on people like this. It’s partly an alpha thing, Harry knows, but there’s something more to it. Maybe it’s because he’s the eldest or some other unknown quality he possesses, but Harry feels like Louis is the center of their band already. They’ve known each other for a month but they all seem to gravitate towards him without realising, asking for his opinions on things and laughing extra loud at all of his ridiculous antics and jokes. Harry knows he’s been paying maybe too much attention to everything Louis related, but he’s certainly not the only one. He can feel it in the air, the way it shifts when one of the other boys get Louis’ approval, the way it’s tinged with a pleased, overpowering scent when he gives them a minute of their time. He shines very brightly.

 

“Sorry,” Zayn mumbles shyly. “I don’t mean to be not fun like this.”

 

“S’alright Zaynie-boy,” Louis replies, eyes crinkling with fondness, his grip tightening on Zayn’s forearm. “You were a bit scared of flying, nothing to be ashamed about.”

 

He says it so easily, but Harry can tell it changes everything for Zayn, who spends the rest of the flight joking with the Belle Amie girls, like the mere acknowledgement of his fear and its legitimacy was enough to soothe him.

 

It’s not perfect, but despite everything, Harry knows their band got lucky to have someone like Louis in it.

 

~*~

 

They get to Spain safely, following assistants and producers quickly through customs and are finally brought to a beautiful mansion that’s meant to be Simon’s. They are given a couple of hours to unpack and to eat before they’re brought back to the front to film a segment where they “officially” find out who is going to be their mentor for the rest of their time in the competition. They’ve been told by the producers weeks ago of course, along with specific pointers for their first group audition, but the aired version of the show needs to appear as organic as possible. Or at least, that has been Harry’s understanding so far.

 

“Well, I hope my surprised slash happy face is going to be good enough,” Louis says once they’ve gone back to their shared bedroom. He’s looking through the pile of clothes he dumped on the armchair in the corner when they were unpacking.

 

“I think we were all very convincing,” Harry replies from the bed he’s sprawled on and doesn’t plan on leaving. There’s not much of a time difference between Spain and the UK but they’ve had a busy day nonetheless and stress is really wearing him down.

 

“Where the hell did I put it?” Louis mumbles, while creating a small tornado of clothes.

 

“What are you looking for?” Niall asks.

 

“My bathing suit! Some of the Princes and Rogues lads are going to the beach…”

 

“What about rehearsal?” Zayn asks in response to Liam’s completely panicked look from the other side of the room.

 

“We’re in Spain. It’s sunny,” Louis pouts. “We can’t not go to the beach.”

 

“We can’t not rehearse,” Liam argues back.

 

“Fine!” Louis shrugs dramatically, falling next to Harry on the bed and cuddling up to him. “Harry gets it, don’t you?”

 

“If you mean I’m completely exhausted and the last thing I want to do is rehearse then yes I do get it. When in Spain, take a nap, if you know what I mean?”

 

Niall bursts into laughter at the comment. “Amen!”

 

“Guys,” Liam warns and it’s been clear from the start that he was going to be the one to bring them back into the real world, to remind them of their responsibilities, but Harry can’t help finding it a bit hilarious how it keeps escalating.

 

“Don’t worry Liam,” Harry yawns, his eyes closing without his permission. “We’re gonna rehearse. Straight away. In a minute.”

 

“Yeah and then beach times!” Louis yells excitedly into Harry’s ear, officially waking him up.

 

“Let’s get to it then lads,” Niall says grabbing Harry’s ankles to start dragging him from the bed.

 

“Heyyyy!” Harry protests sleepily.

 

“I wanna go to the beach too so please let’s get to it,” Niall says, taking his hands off Harry to let him get up on his own.

 

“Alright, alright. I’m up. Let’s go find one of the vocal coaches to practice for a bit. I’m ready.”

 

~*~

 

Once they’re done practicing, Harry chooses to skip dinner on the beach in exchange for the comfort of his bed. His next heat is coming up, a week or so after they’re done filming judges’ houses, and Harry is starting to feel tired and hyper aware of his body already. It’s only little hints here and there, nothing like the horny desperation that takes hold of him when he’s actually in the middle of it, but he can feel it slowly coming. Thankfully, he’ll be back home to get a friend to help him through when the time comes, but he still wishes it was never an issue to begin with. It’s hard for him to concentrate when he worries about triggering it early or missing important things if they get through to the live shows. His mate Johnny has already agreed to come up to London and help if they do, but it’s still constantly in the back of his mind; the thought of spending a heat near so many alphas.

 

He’s getting ahead of himself, he knows. They haven’t gone through yet, but they’re constantly improving in rehearsals and Harry really has the feeling that they’re clicking. Not to mention, they got a positive response from both the vocal coach and the choreographer assigned to help them out. It doesn’t mean Simon will like them, far from it, but it does help settle Harry’s nerves a bit. Especially with how sensitive to other people's feelings he gets when this close to heat. He has to soak every single of his bandmates’ nauseous anxiety, more so than usual, and the last thing he needs is for his own stress to run rampant too. It’s partly why he chose to remove himself from the group in favour of the darkened heaven of their bedroom where no one is making noises or being stressed at all. At least for a couple of hours.

Harry must have fallen asleep without realising because the next thing he’s aware of is the overwhelming sense of dread filling his body as he startles awake, the loud ramblings of Zayn, Niall and Liam bursting into the room chaotic and confusing.

 

“What the hell are we supposed to do?” Liam is saying in a panicked voice, both hands pressed against his face.

 

“What happened?” Harry asks, heart beating wildly in his chest as he scrambles to get up awkwardly.

 

Silence falls into the room as they all stare at each other.

 

“Where’s Louis?” Harry asks, looking towards the door like that will make his favourite member of their band appear how of nowhere.

 

“He got injured,” Niall mumbles.

 

“What?” Harry asks loudly, feeling like he’s going to throw up. “What happened?”

 

“He cut his foot in the sea. At first, we thought it was nothing but it got swollen pretty bad. A member of the crew had to take him to hospital,” Zayn explains in what appears to be a calm voice but Harry knows better.

 

Harry knows he’s as freaked out as the rest of them and how could he not be? This is a disaster. Had he been asked what the worst possible scenario for their band could be, Harry couldn’t even have come up with that because it’s just too terrible to even fathom.

 

“How is he? Is he gonna be okay?” Harry asks, concerned for Louis first and their performance second. “Is he gonna be able to perform tomorrow?”

 

“We don’t know,” Liam whispers. “We might have to go without him.”

 

“What? We can’t. No, no, no. We sound terrible without him. It’s not right,” Harry babbles, the panic bubbling in his chest quickly worst and worst.

 

“He might be okay, though,” Niall says, nodding repeatedly like he’s trying to convince himself. “We don’t know yet.”

 

“Why didn’t any of you go with him?” Harry demands.

 

He can’t imagine it, being hurt in a foreign country, left alone with a complete stranger when so much is riding on the outcome of this week. Louis must be terrified. He must be feeling awful and they left him all alone.

“We asked,” Zayn replies, clearly offended at the implication that they would abandon one of their own. “They said no… We have to be well rested for the performance tomorrow… Like we want to perform without an essential part of our band!”

 

“Oh my god,” Harry gulps, letting himself fall onto the bed and putting a hand in front of his mouth. “Oh my god.”

 

“What do we do?” Niall asks with a small defeated sight.

 

“We wait,” Liam says firmly, putting a reassuring hand on Niall’s shoulder.

 

~*~

 

Waiting involves watching old reruns of Friends in Spanish, cuddled up on the same bed, Harry smacked between Niall and Zayn, all of their feet tangled together as the night progresses. It’s been four hours and there has been no news. They’ve texted Louis over twenty times before remembering he turned his phone off and put it on a nightstand as they left to go to the beach.

 

Niall and Liam have been dozing off for thirty minutes and Harry isn’t quite sure how they’re doing it. He feels so on edge and nervous that every single trace of sleep has left his body the second he learned about Louis to be replaced with worry for his bandmate.

 

“This is such a bad start,” Zayn whispers sadly and Harry tries his hardest not to be superstitious but this feels like a bad sign or something.

 

“I know. Feels like a bad omen.”

 

Zayn laughs weakly. “Exactly. Couldn’t he wait after we were done singing to fuck up his foot?”

 

Harry giggles. “I think he’s too dramatic for that.”

 

“That’s true.”

 

“Hopefully, he’ll be dramatic enough to come back at the last minute to save us from the embarrassment of having to go on without a member of the band... “  

 

Zayn stays silent so long that Harry almost thinks he’s fallen asleep. “Yeah,” he finally agrees softly. “I really hope so.”

 

“It’d be the worst,” Harry gulps. “To be sent back home now.”

 

“Yeah… Getting through makes you want it more, innit?”

And that’s exactly the thing.

 

Harry went in hopeful that he would get some feedback on his singing and that he could prove the omega haters wrong. He dreamed of winning of course, but not with the same desperation he has now. The further they progress into the competition, the hungrier he gets for it, like the fact that it’s suddenly right there, so close he can almost touch it, makes the mere thought of failure nauseating.

 

Harry nods, turning his head to look into Zayn’s eyes. “I know. It’s like… It’s so close. _We’re_ so close.”

 

“For the first time, I felt like I truly had a shot. With the band and everything… It works so well…”

 

“Shouldn’t it be weirder?” Harry asks, voicing something he’s been thinking about every since they were put together. It’s not to say there haven’t been clashes between them, but he can’t help but feel he’s known all of them his whole life and that’s bizarre and surreal and he doesn’t quite understand it.

 

“I know what you mean,” Zayn frowns. “Feels like I’ve known you guys for ages when it hasn’t even been a month… I guess we’re lucky.”

 

“Or the masterminds behind the X-Factor are more powerful and insightful than we thought,” Harry jokes with an eyebrow raise.

 

Zayn snorts loudly, making Liam shuffle in his sleep behind him. “That too,” he replies with a whisper. “We should sleep.”

 

Harry nods and even though he’s still tensed and worried, the sleepiness coming off his bandmates slowly calming him down until he drifts off without noticing.

 

~*~

 

The next morning, they’re all up early, gathering in the kitchen to harass various P.A.s about Louis’ whereabouts as soon as six am. Frustratingly, nobody tells them anything of substance, the crew focusing instead on the fact that they’ll shift the performances around so that One Direction can go last and have a better chance of Louis being back by that time. They also announce that the producers want them to film a segment focusing on their rehearsals without Louis and how the band is reacting to this situation. It’s completely infuriating not to know if their friend is okay or not but considering the restricting schedule and the pressure everyone is under, Harry sort of gets it. It doesn’t make the knot of anxiety tied in his chest loosen, but, at least, the thought of filming something and being proactive does give all of them something to focus on that isn’t the fact that they are still missing a member.

 

They start filming after a very quick and efficient breakfast and they don’t even have to try to make themselves sound terrible for added drama. Truth is, they sound completely off. Without Louis, they’ve lost their texture, their edge, their little something… Harry can’t quite put his finger on it, but it’s a complete disaster. It might just be that they’ve all fitted together so well and so quickly that one voice missing already sounds wrong, but Harry suspects it’s because it’s Louis.  He might be biased because Louis makes his heart beat faster in a way no other alpha ever has, but Harry thinks he might already be the glue that makes them stick together. After, his voice is the only one that’s really different from the others, high and lovely, blending beautifully with the others.

 

Harry hates thinking this way, but it’s like they’ve already given up. Liam keeps messing up the words because he’s nervous, for the first time since they’ve met him Niall isn’t smiling at all,  Zayn looks like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world and Harry… Harry doesn’t feel much better. No matter how many times they ask, there’s still no news.

 

It’s only around two o’clock in the afternoon that a scary looking man with a clipboard tells them Louis is finally on his way back and that they should all wait for him outside the front gate so that the crew can film their emotional reunion. He emphasises the word emotional, clearly cluing them in as to what story the producers are trying to tell but it becomes very clear as soon as they see Louis that they won’t need to fake any of it.

 

Harry is the first one to break from the group. He doesn’t even realise he’s done it until he wraps his arms around Louis first, quickly followed by all of his bandmates. They hug tightly and the second he smells Louis, it’s like the world shifts slightly. Nothing huge or life altering, but suddenly everything in the world is a bit more right now that they’ve finally been reunited. They don’t even have to talk, all of them on the same wavelength as they wrap their arms around Louis to help carry him inside without him having to put weight on his injured foot.

 

“How are you? You okay?” Harry asks quickly when they’ve finally reached the living room and settled down away from the cameras. He’s not he’s fussing too much, but he can’t help himself.

 

Louis laughs weakly. He looks really tired, but then again so did they after the troubled night they had and a bit of make-up fixed it up efficiently.

 

“Yeah Hazza,” Louis replies fondly. “Stepped on a sea urchin, apparently. Should be good now. Took ages to get through the E.R, it was completely packed and then they spent forever getting footage at the hospital this morning.”

 

“They’re really milking this,” Niall snorts.

 

“As long as Louis’ okay and it can get us sympathy with the public, I don’t care,” Harry replies, reaching to stroke Louis’ right wrist.

 

“I’m good,” Louis smiles sleepily. “Promise. They gave me something for the pain so it’s all better now. Ready to smash it, lads?”

 

And suddenly, with the five of them finally back together and the pain and stress of the day forgotten, they totally are.

 

~*~

 

Harry thinks waiting might be the worst thing in the world. It’s getting unbearable. They did their best for Simon and he’d like to think it was enough but there’s just no way for him to know and all he can do is wait while his fate is completely out of his hands. It’s driving him slowly mad.

 

“I can’t take this anymore,” Harry moans over some foreign soap opera he’s never heard of.

 

Two of the Belle Amie girls give him sympathetic looks. “I know,” Esther says. “It’s a nightmare.”

 

“I just want it to be done with, to be honest,” one of the Diva Fever boys laughs awkwardly. “It’s like JUST TELL ME!”

 

“Ugh, I know,” Louis groans from where he’s sitting behind Harry, his chin resting on Harry’s shoulder.

 

“Feels like the longest week ever,” Harry whispers and he feels Louis’ fingers tightening on his bicep in a friendly squeeze.

 

Normally Harry wouldn’t let himself get as close to alphas as he has during this trip when his heat is only a week away, but somehow in the midst of all that is been happening he hasn’t felt weird or threatened about it. Maybe it’s because they don’t behave like typical alphas because they think he’ll be one of them soon enough or just because he knows them intimately now, but it’s felt okay. They all feel like a little family now, the intensity of the experience they’re going through together pushing them closer as each day passes and how could Harry feel uncomfortable in front of family?

 

“I’m never going to be able to fall asleep,” one of the F.Y.D boys complains. “S’too nerve-wracking.”

 

“Same,” Niall laughs awkwardly. “Everything could change depending on what Simon is gonna say tomorrow.”

 

“Our whole lives…” Harry says, letting himself dream of screaming crowds singing back to him the words to their own songs.

 

He wants it so bad.

 

~*~

 

“I’ve gone with my heart.”

 

Harry’s head is blank for a fraction of a second when he hears Simon confirming that his biggest dream has come true. Then, in a flash, everything comes back to him as he collides with his band in a tight hug made loud by their excited screaming and giggling. They're all crying a bit, happy beyond measure as they break apart to jump on Simon who is laughing in reply to their overwhelmed thank yous.

 

~*~

 

"Mum!!" Harry screams into the phone a while later. "Mum, we got through!"

 

She gasps. "Oh my god! Baby, congratulations!"

 

“We’re going to the live shows!!” Harry laughs into the receiver.

 

“I knew it. I knew you could do it.”

 

She’s crying a little but Harry can tell it’s a good cry. He’s crying too after all.

 

“And it’s going to be okay?” she asks. “You’re gonna be okay with all those alphas in your band?”

 

Harry rolls his eyes and stops himself from sighing. He knows she’s only worried, but it’s not the first time they've had this conversation. Even after meeting the boys and agreeing they’re all absolutely lovely, Anne has been putting her concern for Harry first.

 

“Mum,” he says warningly. “We’ve talked about this. I trust them.”

 

“I know love, I know. And they all seem lovely, I just worry.”

 

“Don’t. Please,” Harry begs. “This is a good thing.”

  
“Oh, of course,” she says quickly. “Of course, it’s a good thing love, and I’m so proud of you. All of you. I can’t wait to vote for the band every week!”

 

Harry giggles at the thought. One Direction is going to the live shows.

 

“I know,” he laughs with teary eyes.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**_ September 2010 _ **

 

They move into the X-Factor house at the end of September, a week before the live shows are scheduled to begin. It’s a warm autumn day and Harry feels so excited he thinks he might vibrate out of his skin. They’re there. They’re in London about to start performing live for millions of people every week, about to build themselves a career, and Harry can’t wait to get to work. He can’t wait for the long rehearsals spent learning new choreographies and songs, and more than anything he can’t wait to learn how all of their voices blend together and how to be a proper band. The perspective of living with such an eclectic mix of people and to finally be out of the family nest has him quite elated too.

 

“Excited?” Louis whispers in his ears when they enter the room that’s going to be theirs for the duration of the show for the first time.

 

With the feeling of Louis’ breath against the skin of his neck Harry can’t trust his voice not to shake so he nods quickly, hoping Louis can feel how overwhelmingly happy he feels.

 

“I’d be more excited if we didn’t have one of the smallest room,” Niall complains as he claims one of the top bunk for himself.

 

“Oi!” Louis yells. “What if one of us wanted that one?”

 

Niall shrugs, already rummaging through his bag to get out some of his stuff. “Just stop cuddling and pick a bed mate. I’m not stopping you.”

 

“Well I’m getting the single,” Zayn declares walking towards the only single bed in the room and Harry's eyes widen.

 

“Nooooo,” he moans, following Zayn and trying to get his suitcase off the bed. “I wanted the single.”

 

Louis laughs from behind him, grabbing his waist. “Guess you weren’t quick enough Curly,” he says before pushing Harry on the bed and starting to tickle him, reaching under his sweater to tease the skin below his navel.

 

Harry shrieks in response and starts squirming to try and get out of Louis’ embrace. He can’t, of course, he’s giggling way too hard for that, his scent getting thick and pleased at the skin-to-skin contact.

 

“Please stop your mating rituals on my bed, it’s disgusting,” Zayn says teasingly.

 

Harry knows it’s just a joke but he feels himself blushing furiously at the comment and uses Louis’ surprise to slip away and walks towards the bunk underneath Niall’s to claim as his own. He starts to fumble nervously with his backpack, trying to come up with an excuse to go to the bathroom to spray himself some more, to hide the rich smell that’s coming off him now.  He’s the only one who actually knows how terrifyingly accurate Zayn’s statement is and the last thing he wants is for any of them to figure it out. He’s going to have to tone it down if he wants to survive the house unnoticed.

 

**_ October 2010 _ **

_Week 2_

 

The first week passes so quickly it’s like a blur, their first performance going splendidly and suddenly they’re getting ready to perform their next song to try and impress the British public for the second time and Harry… Harry is feeling like complete and utter shit.

 

He doesn’t get it. He should be over the moon. They’ve started with a bang! Their twitter accounts have already started blowing up, fans of the band trying to communicate with them through social media and many of them already waiting at the barriers of the studio where they rehearse every day just to get a glimpse of Harry and his bandmates. It’s mental and he should be feeling excited but instead, every single day he wakes up more and more nauseous at the thought of having to sing.

 

“Stop, stop!” Brian yells during rehearsals two days before the live shows. “This is not working.”

 

All eyes turn to Harry. He gulps, putting a hand against his throat. He thinks he might puke on stage.

 

“Harry, you alright?” Niall asks, taking a few steps towards him.

 

He shakes his head in response. He’s not. He’s not alright at all and Niall’s strong alpha smell is only making things worst. “I think I’m gonna vom.”

 

Brian’ eyes widen and he climbs on the stage to stand next to Harry, putting a hand on his shoulder and looking closely at his face. Harry has never been more relieved that they have a beta choreographer.

 

“You’re really pale. This doesn’t look good.”

 

“What’s wrong with him?” Liam asks somewhere to their left.

 

Was the room always spinning like this?

 

“I think it’s stage fright,” Brian replies and while Harry has never had any problem with nerves before, the stage does appear particularly frightening today, especially when he feels dizzy like this and he could collapse on it at any moment.

 

“I really don’t feel good,” Harry says, panting slightly and feeling the anxiety rising.

 

“Okay,” Brian says reassuringly. “Come and sit down, we’ll get you some water.”

 

He feels Louis’ hands guiding him off the stage and towards a chair and he hadn’t even realised that Louis was this close to him. For the first time, he hasn’t been completely aware of his presence, too preoccupied to notice much of anything. Someone presses a water bottle into his hands and he struggles with the cap for a few seconds before Louis whispers “here” and takes it away from him to open it before handing it back and rubbing his shoulder comfortingly while Harry takes a tiny sip.

 

“We can’t work with him like this,” Brian tells one of the members of the crew. “There’s no point if he’s sick. We should send him back to the house.”

 

Harry feels a flash of shame at the words, even if he knows they’re right. He doesn’t understand what’s happening to him but he hates the fact that he’s the one holding them back right now. He’s the one holding them back, he’s the weakest link, and he can’t help but hear Liam’s voice again, from that night at the bungalow. He can’t help but think that if this was really a band of alphas only, this wouldn’t be happening right this second.

 

Harry spills some water on himself at the thought. He wishes he could rationalise it and remind himself that it’s not true, that being an omega has nothing to do with this, but he can’t help it. He can’t help the way his hands start shaking, can’t help the nausea he’s feeling at the thought of performing, the dizziness at the sight of the empty stage.

 

“It’s okay,” Niall tells him softly, wrapping an arm around his shoulder in an awkward side-hug. “You go rest, we’ll keep practicing and tomorrow you’ll feel all better yeah?”

 

“If it’s stage fright he-”

 

“Liam,” Louis interrupts sternly.

 

Liam stops speaking and reddens at the comment.

 

“It’s gonna be alright. Just go rest babe,” Louis whispers soothingly.

 

Harry nods, hoping with all of his heart that it will be.

 

~*~

 

Harry is sitting crossed-legged on his bed, his back to the wall and wrapped in his duvet when the boys get back to the X-Factor house.

 

“Hey!!” Niall yells, jumping excitedly next to him on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

 

Harry frowns at him. “Still nauseous,” he groans, eyebrows rising pointedly.

 

“Oooops,” Niall says, patting Harry’s legs. “Sorry. No more jumping around.”

 

“I’d appreciate it.”

 

“Do you think you’re going to be okay to perform?” Liam asks, walking to the bed and putting a cold hand to Harry’s forehead. “You don’t seem feverish.”

 

“Why would he be feverish if it’s stage fright?” Louis asks like it’s obvious.

 

“Well we don’t know,” Niall says. “Ever had problems with nerves before?”

 

“No,” Harry replies sadly. “But they took me to the doctor’s and he said physically I was fine so…”

 

It’s not like it was a surprise to hear it confirmed, but Harry couldn’t help feeling shocked. He’s never had that particular problem before. He’s been nervous of course, many times. Every time, really. But it’s never stopped him from singing…. He’s performed a lot with his band back home, has done weddings and school shows and competitions without a problem. He’s not sure where this is all coming from and he certainly doesn’t understand it.

 

“I don’t know what’s happening,” he adds sadly. “I’m sorry, that’s never happened before but I feel…”

 

“Hey don’t worry about it,” Louis replies automatically, smiling brightly at him. It does make him feel slightly better. “Just rest and get better.”

 

“Yeah,” Zayn says. “It’s gonna be fine.”

 

Harry really hopes that they’re right.

 

~*~

 

Harry can hear his own voice from backstage, talking about feeling ill and stage fright and he thought he had it all under control, but this introduction to their performance is really not helping. He can feel the worry and the nerves coming off his bandmates as Danii talks about the whole band relying on him and he tries his hardest not to feel like the weakest link again, but it’s hard.

 

It helps when he feels Louis reaching towards him on his left, his fingertips stroking Harry’s wrist softly. It reminds him that he’s not alone, that they’re a team.

 

He can do it.

 

~*~

 

Harry giggles when he feels Liam ruffling his curls once they’re back in their dressing room. How can he not after the glowing comments they received from the judges?

 

“Good job Hazza!” Niall smiles, pinching at his cheek affectionately.

 

“Good job everyone,” Harry replies cheekily.

 

“Yeah, let’s not forget how great I did,” Louis says, leaning on Harry’s shoulder.

 

Harry preens at the contact and uses the opportunity to take a big sniff of him.

 

“Oi,” Louis giggles. “S’rude smelling people like that.”

 

“Well, you stink of arrogance, to be honest, it’s not very impressive,” Harry grimaces, pretending to be offended. “Not gonna attract a lot of omegas with that.”

 

It’s a blatantly untrue, obviously. After all, Louis attracted Harry. Louis constantly attracts Harry. It’s worth the lie, though, if only for the way Louis’ focus changes and centers completely on Harry as soon as it’s out of his mouth.

 

“You little shit,” he gasps, pushing Harry on the old sofa in the corner of the room.

 

They fight for a bit, giggling and pushing each other around until they fall off the sofa and onto the floor with a loud thud.

 

“Ow,” Harry giggles into Louis’ hair.

 

“Sorry,” Louis laughs as he gets himself up and seated on Harry’s chest.

 

“You gonna let me go?” Harry asks, squirming around a bit to make Louis fall. It doesn’t work, he just tightens his legs around Harry’s waist in response and his heart stutters at their proximity.

 

“Nah. Not until you apologize.”

 

“Why would I apologize for saying the truth?”

 

“Will you guys stop bickering like children?” Zayn asks.

 

“Nope,” Louis laughs.

 

“Just checkin’,” Zayn says with a laugh and a shrug.

 

“Now, Harold,” Louis says sternly as he grabs a fistful of Harry’s curls to stop his head from moving and lowers his neck right in front of Harry’s nose. “Apologize for what you said and tell me I smell delightful.”

 

It takes everything in his power not to groan or get hard, but Harry manages.

 

“You smell delightful,” he repeats robotically while doing his best to breath through his mouth.  _Delightful. Mouth-watering. Appeasing. Fulfilling. Indescribable._ There are so many options for him to chose from.

 

“Ah-ha!” Louis yells triumphantly as he gets up, both fists raised in victory. “I smell delightful!”

 

“Congratulations,” a P.A. Harry hadn’t even noticed replies with a grimace on her face.

 

She doesn’t seem to think Louis is particularly delightful right now. Oh well, her loss, Harry figures.

 

“You’re gonna be needed back on stage in about 15 minutes so we need to do some touch-ups on your make-up,” she adds before leaving the room.

 

Louis bursts into laughter the moment she’s out.

 

“Did you see her face?”

 

“I’m not the only one unimpressed,” Harry teases with a tiny smirk in the corner of his mouth. Someone needs to gag him before he flirts himself to death. Might as well be wearing a sign that says  _Desperate omega, wants alpha. (Alpha must be Louis Tomlinson)._

 

“Don’t even try Hazza, you just said my alphaness was impressive as hell.”

 

“Alphaness is not a word,” Harry replies at the same time as Zayn’ eyes grow three sizes bigger and he angrily whispers “not a thing” in the background.

 

“Well I say it’s a thing,” Louis declares. “And my thing is impressive,” he adds with an eyebrow raise, biting his lip with satisfaction.

 

Harry hates him. He hates him and he hates himself because the last thing he wants to be thinking about before going on stage is Louis’ thing.

 

_Week 4_

 

Harry knows it’s probably nothing. So what if Louis and Aiden get on very well? Harry doesn’t care. They’re allowed to be friends. It’s none of his business. It’s even a good thing that they’re making friends in the house. It makes the whole experience much more fun after all. Besides, Harry knows it’s not his place to comment or dislike it.  As Louis’ friend, he’s not allowed to dictate his life. He knows that. So what if Aiden is a beta that likes to flirt with Louis? Harry does not care. He likes to flirt too so he gets it.

 

He really really doesn’t care.

 

Or at least, that’s what he’s telling himself as he watches them giggling and whispering into each other’s ears in a corner of the living room.

 

They look awfully cosy is the thing.

 

“What are you talking about?” he asks loudly, feeling a sharp pang of satisfaction when Aiden’s head snaps towards him and away from where it was really close (too close) to Louis’ neck.

 

“Not much,” Aiden shrugs, a puzzled expression on his face.

 

“We’re talking about Zayn and Rebecca,” Louis wiggles his eyebrows.

 

Ah, right. The gossip of the week of course. Harry is not sure if they’re aiming to be subtle, but if that’s the case, Zayn has superbly failed.

 

“Ah,” Harry nods, trying not to look obsessively towards where Aiden and Louis’ legs are intertwined under the coffee table. Do they have to sit close like that?

 

“Wondering how serious it might be,” Louis continues, staring at Harry like he can read into his soul.

 

Harry shrugs in an attempt to appear casual. “We’ll see, I guess,” he replies with a forced smile.

 

Louis hums pensively before wriggling on the sofa and taking a few steps away from Aiden, casually pressing his body against the armrest, rather than the other boy. “Want to go prank Wagner, Harold?” he asks with a small smirk. “We could do that thing with the shampoo bottle we talked about?”

 

Harry smiles and nods, getting up so fast that he almost falls.

 

“Careful,” Louis warns, getting up too and reaching for Harry’s elbow to steady him. “Can’t have you disfigured for this week’s show, yeah?” he laughs affectionately.

 

“Very funny,” Harry rolls his eyes, pleased at the way the situation has turned around.

 

“I like to think so too,” Louis nods, eyes crinkling. “Sorry Aiden, serious band pranking business we’ve got to attend to,” he adds over his shoulder. “You know how it is! Well, not really. You’re not in a band. Still, hush hush, don’t warn Wagner and we  _might_ let you in on it next time.”

 

Aiden laughs as they start leaving the living room. “That’s not necessary Tommo, but cheers.”

 

“Alright,” Louis says once they’re back in the band’s bedroom. “Out with it.”

 

“What?” Harry asks, feeling quite confused.

 

“Something’s bothering you, what is it?” Louis asks expectedly.

 

Harry lets out an awkward high-pitched laugh in response. “Nothing,” he grimaces before passing a nervous hand through his hair.

 

“Convincing Harold,” Louis deadpans.

 

There’s no way Harry can admit to being jealous of Aiden. He’s not an idiot. He knows what it would sound like. There’s no way he can admit having the world’s most pathetic crush on Louis, especially not when he’s not ready to tell the truth about his gender. And he’s not ready. Nowhere near. There are variations of  _#alphadirection_ trending on twitter every week, to his bandmates’ thrill and excitement, and Harry just can’t. He can’t because there are other trends that ring too close to the truth, people tweeting gifs of him staring at Louis like he’s the world and admitting out loud that he has feelings for Louis would be getting one step closer to telling the truth about being an omega and no matter how much he loves his band, he can’t see himself doing it. Not when people are already calling him  _thirsty_ and  _desperate_ without even knowing.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” he ends up replying a beat too late. “It’s not important.”

 

“Harry,” Louis says softly, wrapping him in a hug. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I don’t want to you to be or feel upset. You’re my best friend in here. Hell, you’re my best friend anywhere. ”

 

It does make something flutter into Harry’s chest to hear the strength of their bond confirmed like this, but he can’t quite erase the feeling of exclusion he felt while watching Louis and Aiden cuddled up like that in front of him. It’s the closest Harry’s been to feeling invisible in his life and he hated every second of it. It’s scary to feel like this about someone he’s only known for a few months, scary to feel so strongly about an alpha and to allow himself to be this vulnerable… Especially when he’s supposed to stay focused on the competition.

 

Louis tightens his arms around Harry’s shoulders before pressing a small kiss to his temple. “Is it stage fright again?”

 

“Something like that,” Harry gulps.

 

“Well, you don’t have to worry about anything. You’re brilliant. We’re brilliant.”

 

Harry hopes they’ll all still feel like this when they finally learn the truth. Whenever that might be.

 

**_ November 2010 _ **

_Week 5_

 

By the time the fifth week’s live show ends, Harry hasn’t seen his mum in the flesh since moving into the house in London. They’ve talked on the phone, of course, and she’s even come down with his sister and stepdad for a couple of the shows, but there’s never enough time afterwards for them to properly catch up. So when he sees her talking with Louis’ mother backstage, Harry pounces.

 

“Harry!” Anne yells out excitedly, wrapping him in the biggest hug. “Congratulation. You all sang beautifully.”

 

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles in her shoulder, feeling very emotional all of a sudden. “I’m so happy you could stay tonight.”

 

“So I am love, I missed you so much.”

 

Harry nods against her, letting himself be comforted by the smell that has surrounded him since infancy. He’s missed her. The X-Factor is an amazing experience. Harry feels himself growing every day as he keeps taking on the huge responsibilities that the show entails, but sometimes when he can’t quite fall asleep, worried about the secret he has to carry around on top of everything else, Harry wishes his mother was there.

 

“You looked amazing up there. How is the stage fright going? You feeling better?” Anne asks worriedly, letting go of him to stare.

 

“Mum,” Harry blushes. “It’s fine.”

 

“He’s doing great Anne,” Louis interjects, coming close to pinch one of Harry’s cheek. “We do some breathing exercises before the shows and it’s all good, yeah?”

 

Harry rolls his eyes at him, but he can’t bring himself to feel annoyed at Louis’ intervention. He doesn’t need anyone to talk in his place that’s for sure, but the exercises are their thing, a  _LouisandHarry_  thing that Louis came up with in the middle of the third week and it’s been beyond helpful, so Harry mostly lets it slide.

 

“Yes, it’s very useful,” Harry says pointedly.

 

Louis laughs. “All right, not putting me nose where it doesn't belong anymore,” he says with a wink. “We’ll leave you to it, I want to introduce my mum to Niall’s dad. They haven’t met each other yet. See ya later Curly! It was good to see again Anne.”

 

“You too Louis,” Harry’s mum smiles, opening her arms to offer Louis a hug and Harry tries his hardest not to think about what it would be like, if they were together, because it would probably look like something like this, their families mingling together, and it’s too big of a thought for so late at night.

 

He’s so lost in his mind that he doesn’t even notice the weird inquisitive look his mum is giving him until she starts talking softly, making it hard for Harry to hear her over the buzzing of the various crew members and contestants.

 

“Is there something going on? Between you and Louis?”

 

“What?” Harry laughs awkwardly. “No,” he says a bit too quickly, with a bit too much emphasis.

 

“It’s just… You two are awfully close. You know you can tell me if there’s anything going on, right? I know I worry a lot but I wouldn’t disapprove of  _this_. Louis is lovely.”

 

“I know Louis is lovely, but I swear nothing is happening. He doesn’t even know I’m…” Harry trails off, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone is eavesdropping. “You know,” he adds with a shrug.

 

“Oh,” Anne says, her face falling a little. “You still haven’t told the boys?”

 

“No.”

 

“Harry I think you should-”

 

“I know what you think, but I haven’t and I don’t want to,” Harry interrupts fiercely.

 

“I was the first one to agree at first, for your own safety, but surely things have changed now? What about your heat? It’s coming up in a couple of weeks, you’d be much safer with someone in the house knowing… ” Anne asks in a whisper. She reaches for his face absently, rubbing a thumb against his temple.

 

“I don’t wanna talk about this,” Harry replies through clenched teeth. “I’ve got everything sorted for my heat. I won’t need anything from anyone at the house.”

 

“Okay. It’s just… If he knew the truth, Louis would-”

 

“Mum!” Harry gasps loudly, making a few people stop and stare.

 

He smiles awkwardly at them while Anne laughs at his embarrassed smell and the red spreading on his cheeks. “Alright,” she says. “I’m staying out of it.”

 

_Week 7_

 

Harry wakes up sweaty and hard.

 

It’s barely Saturday morning yet, One Direction’s bedroom is dark and his bandmates are thankfully still asleep despite the smell of Harry’s need. He’s already leaked through his boxer and there’s an undeniable desperation stirring in his belly that has little to do with the competition. He knew his heat was coming, has already arranged for one of his mates from back home to meet him at a small hotel to help him take care of it, but he can’t help feeling anxious. They have a song to perform live today and Harry refuses to be the reason that they fail.

 

He sighs before getting up as silently as possible, stopping to open the window in the hope that the smell of his slick will have dissipated by the time the other boys wake up. He lights up some incense with shaky hands, letting it burn on the nightstand next to Liam’s bed before locking himself up in the bathroom for a thorough shower.

 

He makes himself come twice to take the edge off, fingers deep inside himself as he pants on the shower tiles. It’s not enough, of course. It’s not what he needs and he feels feverish at the mere thought of getting knotted, dick hardening again barely seconds after coming.

 

Harry gulps as he gets out of the shower, already knowing it’s going to be a long, tiring day. He sprays himself carefully with some pheromone neutralising deodorant before getting dressed again and heading out to the back entrance. He makes a stop in the empty kitchen to grab a plastic bag to put his soiled boxer in, too terrified of someone on the show finding them to leave them in the house. Once outside, he drops the bag in one of the neighbour's’ trashcan before hailing a cab a few streets down.

 

It feels like the longest drive of his life even though rationally he knows it’s only twenty little minutes. Rationality has little to do with the fire and need taking undeniable control of his body though and he spends each minute stuck in the car counting the seconds until he can finally get the only thing that could help.

 

Once he gets to the hotel, he goes through the lobby quickly, heads down and fingers fiddling with the green beanie on his head. He knows the spray does a fantastic job of covering his smell. There are not even a lot of people hanging around so early and they’d have to really take a closer look to realise his predicament. Harry knows that. Still, he’s nervous. There are too many horror stories of out of control alphas tearing unwilling omegas apart with the flimsy excuse of heat and biology to help their causes for him not to be. There have been too many talks of safety first, too many warning of the risks an omega takes when knowingly going outside during their heats… It’s hard for him to forget those facts.

 

Harry shakes his head as he climbs into the elevator, heart pounding wildly in his chest and the desire to tear off his clothes and submit to the first alpha he sees so strong he feels nauseous with it.

 

Once he gets to the room’s door, Harry doesn’t even bother with knocking. He just strides inside with a whine at the strength of Johnny’s smell and starts taking off his clothes clumsily.

 

“Hey, hey,” Johnny says softly, reaching for him.

 

Harry whines again. He wishes he could be more eloquent than this, wishes he could say  _hi_  and  _thank you_ , but he can’t do much more than fumbling with the button of his jeans with trembling hands.

 

“Come here H,” Johnny says with an authoritative voice, guiding Harry face down onto the bed, helping him out of his pants.

 

“Please,” Harry mouths silently against the pillow while Johnny fumbles with the condom behind him.  

 

“S’okay, won’t be long now.”

 

Harry doesn’t stop shaking until he’s been knotted twice.

 

~*~

 

When he gets back to the studio, Harry is still a little flustered. There’s a healthy flush reddening his pale skin but he doesn’t feel feverish with need anymore. Johnny’s knot took care of that. He feels shaky and exhausted sure, but the last symptoms of his heat are slowly fading away allowing him to join his band for some last minute rehearsals before the live show as if nothing was wrong in the first place.

 

“Where did you disappear off to this morning? I texted you like fifty times,” Liam immediately demands as Harry takes a seat next to Louis.

 

He bites at the skin of his index nervously for a second before shrugging. “Went for a walk,” he replies as nonchalantly as possible, heart clenching at the thought of one of them smelling the residue of his heat-induced neediness. “Got a bit nervous,” he adds with a shy smile.

 

“You should have asked me to come with,” Louis says softly, pressing a comforting hand to the small of Harry’s back.

 

Harry gets wet again, just like that, and he hates his body a little bit for it. It's not like he doesn't know he has a massively embarrassing crush on Louis. It's been pretty much a given since he's seen him, since he's smelled him, that first time in the bathroom. Every moment spent getting to know him better since then has only reinforced his feelings. It's just kind of rude of his body to go on and on about it.

 

He shrugs again, basking in the sweet, comforting smell coming from Louis. “I didn’t feel like having company,” Harry says.

 

Louis hums. "Well," he starts loudly. "Nothing to worry about Curly. You're gonna smash it as usual. Everybody's bloody favourite, aren't ya?"

 

Harry smiles, feeling himself blush all over as warmth spreads through his limbs. "I don't know about that," he mumbles with a cheeky grin.

 

Louis rolls his eyes dramatically in response. "Sure you don't..."

 

"If you guys are done flirting, we’ve got a lot to do before the live show,” Liam reprimands while Niall and Zayn snort.

 

It’s absolutely ridiculous is the thing; the idea of two alphas flirting. Harry officially hasn’t presented of course, but everyone expects a knot out of him. The judges, his bandmates, the screaming girls outside the studio… They’re all waiting for it. Harry is never quite sure if he’s happy to have fooled them so well. It makes his life on the X-Factor much easier, that’s for sure. It’s not like omegas can be heartthrobs anyway. There’s a market for them, Harry knows that, but it’s filled with awful stereotypes, playing them off as needy seductive creatures, offered up to the public like pieces of meat. The mere thought of it makes Harry feel sick to his stomach. If that’s the price of fame he’s not sure he wants to pay it.

 

Louis rolls his eyes in response. “All right Payno, chill,” he teases as he gets up and stretches a little. “Let’s get to it.”

 

~*~

 

The spotlights are bright on Harry's face after they've done performing. His heart is beating so fast and loud he can barely hear the judges' comments but he's pretty sure they've done very well.

 

"Well boys, how are you feeling?" Dermot asks with a grin once the judges are done speaking.

 

"Good," Liam starts, clearly excited by their performance. "We're working hard and we're improving every week and it feels great to be able to show that to the public."

 

"And boy does it shows! You lads were fantastic tonight. Harry, you're absolutely glowing. Am I right ladies?" Dermot calls to the crowd receiving high-pitched screams in reply.

 

Harry smiles, heart in his throat. He winks flirtingly towards the camera while Dermot laughs loudly.

 

“Well I think it’s safe to say half of the teenage population of Britain just died and they haven’t even smelled you yet,” he teases, putting an arm around Harry’s shoulder. “Well ladies and gentlemen, I can confirm Harry is absolutely mouth-watering! Smells as good as that performance was! Now if you want to see One Direction stay in the competition, and I don’t see why you wouldn’t. Don’t forget to grab those phones and vote.”

 

Harry keeps smiling through Dermot’s speech, skin itching at the uncomfortable weight of the alpha’s arm on his shoulder, heartbeat speeding up at their proximity so soon after his heat. The last thing he wants is for it to be triggered again while on stage, but he needs to keep the charming act up so he keeps on smiling despite the exhaustion. He smiles, big and dimpled, hoping it’s enough for the public to want them for one more week.

 

~*~

 

“What a jerk,” Louis mumbles angrily as soon as they’re backstage. “Commenting on your scent like that.”

 

“Louis,” Liam says warningly, looking around frantically to see if someone’s heard.

 

“It was a bit of a dick move” Zayn agrees, elbowing Liam as they keep walking to their dressing room.

 

“A dick move that’ll get us votes, though,” Niall shrugs, unbothered as he always is.

 

“I don’t mind,” Harry says, even if he does a bit.

 

He knows Dermot didn’t mean it in a bad way. He was just trying to entice the audience with the perspective of a future alpha.

 

“It’s predatory and creepy,” Louis says firmly, thunder in his eyes as he starts changing from his stage outfit.

 

Harry shrugs. It is, of course, it is, but there’s not much to be done about it and if it’s going to intrigue a few more people and convince them to vote for his band, Harry feels like he can’t really complain. It’s better than the inappropriate crap he’d get if people knew the truth anyway.

 

“It’s the show mate,” Zayn comments. “People want to get to know the acts, it’s not surprising. It’s part of Dermot’s job to be their enabler.”

 

Harry can see Liam mouthing “enabler” with a confused look on his face in the corner of his eyes.

 

“Just ‘cause it’s not surprising doesn’t mean it’s okay or that Hazza has to like it,” Louis protests before Harry has the opportunity to explain the meaning of the word to Liam.

 

He flushes with pleasure at the protective tone of Louis’ voice. It makes him want to rub himself needily against him in response and he feels embarrassed at the thought despite knowing it’s only his biology making him react so strongly.

 

“It’s okay, Lou,” Harry replies firmly, trying to keep his cool. “I really don’t mind.”

 

“See,” Niall laughs. “It’s all good. Now, will you stop acting like a nesting omega, fussing about everything.”

 

“That’s really offensive Ni,” Harry can’t stop himself from saying, feeling his heart clench painfully at the comment.

 

He tries not to be too annoying about it, but it’s hard when he keeps hearing gross things about his gender.

 

“You know what I mean,” Niall sighs with an eye roll.

 

He most likely doesn’t mean it to be hurtful is the thing. There’s no omega in his family so he probably doesn’t even know any better. Besides, Niall is too happy and open with everyone to want to purposefully hurt someone’s feelings. It’s just not something he’s ever had to think about. Harry tries not to envy that nonchalance and cavalier attitude that comes with being an alpha but it’s hard not to. Especially when they surround him constantly these days and he hurts all over from his heat.

 

Alphas don’t have it easy all the time of course. Harry’s only sixteen but he’s not naive or an idiot. Still. With his body feeling feverish and the exhaustion from wanting and needing deep within his bones, he’d swap with one of them easily. After a shower, food in his belly and a good night of sleep to recuperate, he'll feel differently of course. Right now though, Niall’s comments sting and he feels irritated enough to stand up for himself even if his bandmate won’t recognize it as such.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry insists, scratching nervously the hair at the back of his neck, the sting of Johnny's bite marks hidden there anchoring him a little. “It’s rude.”

 

“Alright,” Niall gives up, raising both palms in surrender. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lot tonight but sorry. I won’t say it again.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You’re all coming to the after party, right?” Niall asks like nothing happened because to him, nothing did.

 

Harry shakes his head as soon as the words  _after party_  leave Niall’s mouth. He’s barely standing as is it... There’s no way a few more hours in a room filled with people and alcohol could be beneficial at this point.

 

“Oh come on H! It’ll be sick.”

 

“I’m tired,” Harry sighs as he turns to face the corner of their dressing room, hiding the marks on his chest as he changes shirt. “I’m not in the mood for a party.”

 

“But -”

 

“Leave him alone Ni,” Zayn interrupts kindly. “It’s been a long day for everyone.”

 

"Fine!" Niall says. "But all of you are coming, right?! We were awesome tonight and this deserves a celebration."

 

"Actually," Louis starts slowly, looking at Harry from the corner of his eyes. "I'm quite tired too. I think I'll go back to the house with Harold."

 

"Since when are you not up for a party?" Liam asks suspiciously, with the same edge and tension to his voice that's always present when he speaks to Louis.

 

It's not surprising, considering how strong-headed alphas usually are, but it makes Harry uncomfortable every time. A lot of alphas stuck together are bound to clash sooner or later and in Liam and Louis' case, it's always sooner. They're working on it though, for the good of the band. Talking to each other politely and trying to keep the authority and stature out of their voices to ensure the wellbeing of the group. They still catch themselves slipping, though. Harry always notices, tuned with everyone's feelings as he is. It's quite a relief to him that none of the others seem to have the same problems as Liam and Louis do. Harry was expecting it a lot more in a group full of commanding alphas.

 

"Thought you'd be happy about it," Louis snaps.

 

"I am. The last thing we need is you being even more distracted."

 

"Lads," Zayn warns, putting a comforting hand on Liam's elbow. "We're all tired, there's no need for all of this."

 

"I'm just sayin'," Liam mumbles. "We could all be more serious. I mean, where was Harry this morning? This is a big opportunity and we can't screw it up for a few laughs or pranks."

 

"Come on, Li. We did well. We're going to have a bit of celebration while those two bore get back to the house to sleep and tomorrow we're gonna get through," Niall laughs, lassoing his shirt over his head and throwing it at Liam's face.

 

"We're not saying long, though," Liam argues with a grimace at the smell of Niall's shirt. "We need to sleep too."

 

~*~

 

They're the only one at the house and Harry isn't sure how he feels about it. Not that Louis scares him of course. He'd be the last alpha to do so, but Harry just isn't used to being completely alone with one of them that's not either a member of his family or someone he's known his whole life. Especially not so close to his heat. Or with an alpha he's started having embarrassing feelings for.

 

"I'm gonna take a shower," Harry mumbles shyly before locking himself in the bathroom for a thorough scrub and a quick wank.

 

He's not still feeling desperate like this morning but it hasn't been long enough for him to be completely back to normal. Louis' arm around his shoulder in the cab certainly hasn't helped to calm him down and he feels a bit anxious and jittery still. Nothing a good night of sleep won't fix, though.

 

Once he gets out of the loo, feeling properly clean for the first time in more than twelve hours, he's surprised to find Louis still awake, playing on his phone on Harry's bed next to a plate of toasts and a banana.

 

“Here,” Louis says, not looking up and pushing the plate towards Harry. “Toasts are probably cold by now but eat the banana at least. You must be famished.”

 

Harry doesn’t say anything, tries to ignore to soaring happiness blooming in his chest at the thought of Louis taking care of him, and tries to remind himself it means nothing or certainly not what Harry would hope.

 

“Thanks,” he says, sitting down and reaching towards the plate. He munches on the cold piece of toast in silence unsure what to say next.

 

He doesn’t have to wait very long because Louis sighs loudly and puts his phone away, sitting crossed-legged in front of Harry with a serious look on his face.

 

“I…” he starts, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Listen, next time you’re in heat, at least tell one of us okay?”

 

“What?” Harry squeaks with a nervous giggle. Surely he’s misheard.

 

“Look, just don’t go around London by yourself,” Louis continues in a soft voice. “We don’t want you getting hurt. If you need… help, we can work something out. We’re a band, we take care of each other-”

 

“We?” Harry asks, feeling more and more like he’s going to vomit as each second pass.

 

“That came out wrong,” Louis replies quickly, putting a hand on top of Harry’s for a second and taking it back straight away. “I don’t mean we’re going to take care of it like the band is gonna…” he trails off awkwardly, cheeks reddening. “You don’t have to worry about that, we’re not gonna do anything you don’t want. Never. Just… We can help. Logistically. Like, I don’t know who took care of it today but someone obviously did and you went somewhere for that to happen, but it’s just that it’s dangerous for omegas in heat to be out and about by themselves and I was worried, so you know... We can help.”

 

Harry feels the tears start to slide down his cheeks and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more embarrassed in his entire life.

 

“Just… Just because I’m a… omega,” Harry hates the way his voice weakens on the word but he powers through because he’s angry and upset and he has things he wants to say. “ It doesn’t mean that I’m helpless or that I need to be saved or anything like that. I’m just as capable as you. I got through just like you, you lot don’t have to babysit me.”

 

“Harry,” Louis says softly, trying to reach for his hand again.

 

“I’m not something you guys have to take care for or worry about,” Harry continues angrily, crossing his arms over his chest, ignoring the part of him that wants to be comforted by Louis, that wants to take his hand and be cuddled, that wants to smell the skin where his neck meets shoulder and never worry about anything else in his life. “Omegas aren’t just needy and helpless,” he adds with disgust in his voice. He’s so sick of hearing it everywhere and if his secret is out he’s certainly not going to tolerate it from his bandmates too.

 

“I know!” Louis exclaims. “Fuck,” he mutters, passing a shaky hand through his hair. “I really didn’t mean it like that.”

 

“Being an omega is not a…” Harry’s voice catch. Burden is what he wants to say but he can’t bring himself to because it does feel like a burden sometimes when he has to beg his childhood best friend to fuck him just so he can have a normal day or when people like him are the butt of the joke.

 

Harry gulps and shakes his head. He hates the fact that he’s crying right now, hates that he can’t stand up for himself without confirming every stereotype about emotional omegas that exists.

 

“How long have you known?” he ends up asking with a small sniff, slowly trying to calm himself down. “Does everyone on the show know? Do you all talk about it behind my back?” Now that he’s started to ask questions he can’t seem to stop himself. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”

 

Louis has the decency to look a bit embarrassed at that. “I didn’t know for sure until today. I already had my suspicion and you looked really out of it when you came for rehearsal. I think Zayn suspects too, but that’s it. And no we didn’t talk about it or anything. That’d be fucked up. We’re a band, we talk about stuff together not behind each other’s back Hazza. I came to you as soon as I was sure. I promise. It’s not obvious at all. Not that it would matter if it was, but you know… Please don’t worry, nobody is talking about you like that. If you don’t want people to know, I won’t say anything either. And I doubt Zayn would. His sister is an omega too so he knows what that’s like.”

 

Harry huffs.  _As if_ , he thinks vindictively.

 

Louis gives him a look. “You know what I mean.”

 

“Not really,” Harry says, wiping at his eyes angrily.

 

“Please don’t be upset,” Louis begs softly.

 

“I’m not upset,” Harry lies, reaching for another piece of toast and taking an angry bite out of it. It’s cold and soggy but he’s hungry and Louis made it for him.

 

“Nobody's gonna care,” Louis starts saying.

 

“You don’t know that,” Harry interrupts with a mouthful.

 

“Well, nobody in the band will.”

 

Harry swallows and raises his eyebrows with a doubtful expression, Niall’s comments still ringing in his ears.  

 

“Hey,” Louis calls seriously. “Look at me. I’m being serious. I know we say stupid shit, but I mean it. Nobody in the band will mind. I promise.”

 

“Okay,” Harry replies sarcastically, throat still closed up. He reaches for the banana, starting to peel it from the bottom. He’s been doing it like this since last winter, after seeing a documentary about monkeys and learning that it’s the way they do it. Gemma has been teasing him about it nonstop ever since and Harry’s heart clenches painfully at the thought. He misses his sister. He misses his family, misses his home, misses having someone to cuddle up with him after his heat.

 

“Do you…” Louis starts hesitantly.

 

“What?” Harry asks, mouth full and not caring. Louis is looking at him with pitying eyes like he’s some lost kid that needs guidance and Harry hates it. He hates it.

 

“Do you need anything? Anything else?”

 

Harry doesn’t need anything else except a good night of sleep, but he’d love a cuddle that’s for sure. He’s just not sure if he’s allowed to ask now, not sure if the physically of his friendship with Louis should change now that the truth is in the open. The last thing he wants to come off as is needy, not in front of Louis, not in front of anyone.

 

Louis must see it in his eyes though because his entire face softens. “Anything, I mean it.”

 

Harry feels his eyes water again. He tries to shrug nonchalantly, looking for words to express what he wants.

 

“How about a hug?” Louis offers shyly. He’s clearly nervous about it too, smells like uncertainty and doubt, but he offers anyway.

 

He opens his arms wide towards Harry and how could he refuse really.

 

"Thanks," Harry mumbles, dropping the banana peel back into the plate and cuddling in, hiding his face into Louis' shoulder.

 

"Anytime," Louis croaks as he wraps an arm around Harry's waist and uses the other to rub the back of Harry's neck, fingers tangling in the curls hidden there.

 

It doesn’t take him very long to fall asleep.

 

They get through the next day, just like Niall predicted, but the way Louis quickly pulls away from Harry when the band hugs, like Harry's skin is ablaze and he can't bear it to touch it, makes him feel like he's lost something more precious or important than the competition.


	3. Chapter 3

**_November 2010_ **

_Week 8_

 

To say things are awkward during the next week feels like the understatement of the century if Harry's concerned. Louis won't talk to him, can barely bear to look at him most days, and it's gotten to the point where not only the band has noticed something's up, but Simon too, his judging eyes following them as they rehearse their song over and over again.

 

It shouldn't come as a surprise when he calls Harry in his office for an individual meeting, yet somehow it still is.

 

"Take a seat Harry," Simon says once Harry gets there. He points at the chair in front of the desk and Harry feels like he's back at school, being scowled for misbehaving in the halls with his mates.

 

He pulls the chair back, wincing when it drags noisily, the screeching loud in the small room and tinting Harry's cheeks red. "Sorry," he mouths with a shrug and a cheeky smile, hoping a carefree attitude will get him out of here quickly and painlessly.

 

Simon doesn't say anything back, his legendary poker face on. He smells like strength and gasoline. It's always a powerful smell but it's worse here in his working space. It makes Harry's eyes water as he gulps and sits down.

 

"It doesn't matter to me that you're an omega, I hope you know that," Simon says first and Harry feels like an idiot for ever thinking he could have fooled one of the most important men in the business.

 

"I... I..." Harry stutters, unsure what he's supposed to say to that.

 

"I really don't care," Simon continues like Harry never even tried to say anything. "I don't mind it as long as it doesn't cause any problem. You're in a band with alphas and you know how omegas affect alphas, Harry. I don't want your bandmates to be....  _distracted._ If you know what I mean? Can't have the band focused on the week's song if they're all thinking about your leaky arse, right?"

 

This is probably what it feels like to have an out of body experience, Harry thinks idly. Surely this is what it is because there's no way Simon Cowell just said that to him, out loud, with real words. No one says those things, not face to face, not so directly.

 

"Right?" Simon repeats insistently, eyeing Harry down coldly, clearly expecting an answer.

 

"Right," Harry echoes absently, shocked beyond belief.

 

"I'm glad we're on the same page about this Harry. Now, you're going to stop enticing them, right?"

 

Harry nods, throat tight. He feels slightly nauseous.

 

"Good boy. Whatever it is that's going on between you and Louis, I want it fixed. I don't care how just fix it. Don't make me regret giving you a chance despite your gender Harry."

 

 _Despite,_ Harry shudders when he hears it.

 

"A lot of people didn't want to even put you in the band you know," Simon adds like he did Harry a favour by putting him on anyway. "Wanted us to add a fifth alpha. Alphas sell."

 

Harry keeps nodding but he feels a million miles away, feels on a whole different planet.

 

"But I insisted. Was that a mistake Harry?" Simon asks pointedly.

 

"No," he whispers back fiercely, hoping what he’s saying his true.

 

"Fix it then."

 

~*~

 

Harry's been cuddled up with his pillow for two hours when the boys get back from  _Nandos_ , loudly bursting into the room without a care in the world. Niall is cackling, probably responding to something stupid Louis did if previous experiences are to be trusted.

 

"Hey," Louis shushes them quickly. "Haz is sleeping," he whispers and Harry tried not to tense up when they all fall silent and he feels the weight of their gaze on his back.

 

They’d all gathered up to him as soon as he’d come back from his meeting with Simon, questions falling from their lips in an indiscernible cacophony, attacking him with various levels of concern and curiosity. Harry hadn’t said anything, hadn’t been quick enough to think of a clever lie to cover up the truth about the meeting. Louis had known straight away, his piercing blue eyes fixed on Harry for the first time in almost a week, and he was the one to suggest a band outing, distracting the other boys from Harry and letting him excuse himself without a fuss. It’s hard for Harry to stay mad at Louis when he’s silently covering up for him like this, but still. He does it anyway.

 

“Well, I’m not tired yet,” Zayn whispers. “Anyone wants to watch a film downstairs?”

 

Liam and Niall quickly agree and they all exit the room as quietly as they can manage, which is not at all. Harry’s glad he’s not actually sleeping because that would have been a brutal awakening.

 

He feels the mattress of his bed dipping as soon as the door closes, Louis’ body shuffling awkwardly, trying to settle in a comfortable sitting position next to Harry.

 

He clears his throat loudly before poking Harry in the bicep. “I know you’re not sleeping.”

 

 _Oh, so we’re doing this now,_  Harry thinks angrily. “Congratulations,” he sighs in reply, tightening his hold on the pillow he’s cuddling.

 

“What did Simon want?” Louis asks, except with his alpha voice it sounds like an order and it just pisses Harry off even more.

 

“Oh, you’re talking to me now, that’s new,” Harry replies and he knows it’s a childish reaction, knows that he could have tried talking to Louis too, but he’s angry. He’s mad at Louis for ignoring him, mad at Simon for the horrible reality he painted for Harry, mad at the industry for deciding people like him are worthless… He’s furious and if he feels like taking it out on Louis then he’s going to allow himself this luxury.

 

“Don’t,” Louis whispers.

 

“Don’t tell the truth because you don’t like it?” Harry fires back. He’s tired of biting his tongue for alphas’ sake, for everyone else’s sake.

 

“I’m sorry I’ve been… distant.”

 

“Okay,” Harry shrugs dismissively.

 

“I didn’t mean to,” Louis continues, reaching out towards Harry’s back and starting to draw aimless patterns on the fabric of Harry’s sweater with the tip of his index. “It just feels like everything’s different now, everything means more, you know? I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

 

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat.

 

“Talk to me?” Louis asks, stopping his abstract drawing and gripping the material instead.

 

“You don’t make me feel uncomfortable,” Harry whispers to the white walls of their shared bedroom and it feels like he’s admitting much more than that.

 

“What I said the other night… About your heat and stuff… It came out so wrong, I’ve been feeling awful about it. It was stupid. I was nervous about talking to you and I mucked all up, I’m sorry H.”

 

“S’okay,” Harry says slowly.

 

“It’s not,” Louis interrupts. “I implied the members of our band should fuck it out of you,” he continues shakily, sounding clearly upset.

 

“I know it’s not what you meant.”

 

“Doesn’t matter what I meant, I should have been more careful. I’ve been thinking about it all week and I didn’t know how to apologize.”

 

“Like this is okay I think.”

 

“Yeah?” Louis asks with a wet chuckle.

 

Harry nods, a tiny thing hidden in his white pillow.

 

“Well I truly am sorry,” Louis continues. “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but you’ve become one of my closest friends... The last thing I want is for things to be awkward between us.”

 

“It’s okay,” Harry says, trying not to feel too disappointed that Louis sees him only as a friend. It’s not like he was actually expecting anything else really. They’re mates and Louis has a girlfriend, a sweet beta that comes to almost every live shows to support him. “Things aren’t awkward.”

 

“Mmm,” Louis hums thoughtfully, squirming around to lie down next to Harry, coming a bit too close for comfort, nose pressed into the curls at the base of Harry’s neck, where his smell is strongest. “Why is it that I’m still talking to your back then?” Louis asks with a teasing tone, sliding his fingers underneath Harry’s jumper to pinch at his love handles.

 

Harry squeaks, jumping at the attack and trying to escape Louis’ tickling hand. There’s nowhere to run, though, nothing but the wall in front of him and Louis’s body behind, caging him in and forcing Harry to endure the mistreatment.

 

“Stop it,” he finally manages to say through his giggling. “Louuuuu,” Harry whines, squirming against Louis.

 

“Nope,” he replies cheekily, tickling Harry some more. “Not until things aren’t awkward between us.”

 

“They…” Harry laughs loudly, trying to catch his breath and failing. “They’re not,” he giggles. “They’re not. Promise.”

 

“Alright,” Louis teases, finally stopping. “If you promise,” he whispers in Harry’s ears, letting his hand slide from Harry’s side to his belly, pressing his palm against the softness and breathing deeply in. “Fuck, you smell good,” Louis mumbles into Harry’s hair.

 

Harry stiffens and feels his eyes watering at the comment.

 

“Harry?” Louis asks in a worried tone, stiffening in turn.

 

“I’m sorry,” Harry replies, trying to curl in on himself.

 

“What are you sorry for? What are you talking about?”

 

“I don’t mean to,” Harry babbles, not listening to Louis at all, not listening to anything. He’s aware of one thing and one thing only: Simon is right. He’s enticing them and he’s ruining the band, him and his stupid biology.

 

“Harry, turn around,” Louis demands, still rubbing his belly.

 

“Simon’s right,” Harry says with a tiny sob.

 

“What did he say?” Louis asks angrily. His hand stops moving on Harry’s skin and it feels like time stands still. “Harry?”

 

Harry can’t. He can’t reply, can’t do anything but focus on trying to stop crying and shaking in Louis’ arms. He’s been feeling like sobbing ever since Simon first opened his mouth in that big intimidating office and he’s been so good so far, he’s been able to keep it all in, but now that’s he’s started crying Harry can’t stop.

 

Louis huffs and tightens his grip on Harry, turning him around in one swift and easy movement, displaying some alpha strength that Harry would find extremely attractive if this were any other circumstances.

 

“Baby,” Louis whispers slowly, reaching up to thumb at the corner of Harry’s eyes, gathering his tears and making him feel cared for. Harry hates loving it and it only makes him sob harder.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

 

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for Haz,” Louis says. He presses a tiny kiss against Harry’s temple, gripping at the back of his neck to rub his thumb against Harry’s jaw.

 

“I do,” Harry nods. He can’t breathe, keeps exhaling loudly as he gets more and more worked up.

 

“If Simon said something inappropriate to you-”

 

“He didn’t say anything that wasn’t true!” Harry interrupts self-deprecatingly.

 

“Hazza-”

 

“I don’t wanna ruin the band,” Harry says quickly and it feels good to say it out loud when he’s been worrying about it for weeks, long before Simon even mentioned it.

 

“What?” Louis chuckles with a confused look on his face. “What are you on about?” he continues with a more serious tone. “Did Simon say you would? Because you’re an omega?”

 

Louis looks incredulous like it never even crossed his mind. He looks angry too, blue eyes storming and questioning as they scan every inch of Harry’s face and he can’t. He can’t face it so he closes his eyes tightly, trying to stop the tears and taking a deep breath before answering.

 

“He’s not wrong, though.”

 

“What the fuck?” Louis exclaims. “That’s  _not_ true,” he adds pointedly. “Hey, look at me.”

 

Harry shakes his head slowly, eyes still firmly closed.

 

“Harry, that’s not true. That’s bullshit. What does you being an omega have to do with anything?”

 

“Everybody knows what omegas do to alphas!” Harry snaps loudly, glaring at Louis. “It’s a distraction, you can’t be focused on the competition if you’re…” he hesitates for a second, gulping nervously.

 

Louis is looking at him expectantly and Harry feels ashamed at the mere thought of repeating what Simon said.

 

“If you’re distracted by… omega stuff,” he finally chooses to say. He’s slightly nauseous, the sound of Simon’s voice is ringing in his ears still, confirming every single doubt he’s ever had.

 

“Nobody’s distracted by your omega stuff,” Louis replies, making angry quotation marks with his hands on the word  _stuff._ “It’s complete rubbish, you had your heat and none of us went all gross alpha about it. I know he’s the most powerful man in the British music industry but he can fuck off about that. What else did he say?”

 

“You did, though,” Harry argues, pushing Louis away to get enough space to sit back up. They can’t be this close, not while having this conversation. Harry can’t deal with Louis’ face so close to his, with the mix of their smell all tangled in his bed.

 

He’s momentarily thankful when he notices Louis following his lead and sitting up too, being careful to let some space between their bodies.

 

“What do you mean?” Louis asks when they’re finally sitting side-by-side on the bed, crossed legged, their knees definitely not touching.

 

“You did go all gross alpha about it, that’s the reason we were having a conversation… Just so you could apologize, so you can’t tell me that me being an omega isn’t going to affect the band! It’s already started. Ever since you found out, you’ve barely talked to me or looked at me. And what you said about… about my smell,” Harry whispers that last part, shaking his head angrily, picking at his duvet nervously.

 

“I shouldn’t have said that-”

 

“See!” Harry yells, turning his head to look at Louis straight on. “You can’t sit here, lying to my face and telling me that what I am isn’t going to fuck things up when it has already and you’ve only known about it for a week!”

 

Louis chuckles wetly and licks at his upper lip before rising a self-deprecating eyebrow at Harry. “None of that happened because you’re an omega, Harry,” Louis says seriously. “It happened because I have feelings for you and I’m apparently really terrible at dealing with it.”

 

“Wh-what?” Harry stutters. He’s pretty sure his heart stopped somewhere after “feelings”. “What about Hannah?”

 

“I broke up with her last week,” Louis admits while sneaking a couple of side-glance at Harry, evidently trying to gauge his reaction even though Harry’s pretty sure his face has never been more blank in his life. “Sorry,” he whispers after a couple of seconds.

 

“Why are you apologising?”

 

Louis shrugs. “I don’t know. For being disturbingly delighted to learn you were an omega because it meant that maybe, just maybe I could have a chance? For being really jealous of whoever took care of your heat and for attacking the subject with as much subtlety as an atomic bomb?”

 

“You were jealous?” Harry asks slowly, trying his hardest not to smirk. He knows it’s probably pointless with the way his smell just turned fruity sweet and pleased at the thought, but he tries anyway.

 

“I was going to be all nice about it, telling you that you could trust the rest of us you know? That we were all gonna be there for you no matter what…  But then… Your tee was a bit too big and  I saw… the hickey on your chest and just vommed some words.”

 

Harry giggles in reply. The comments originally upset him, but now that he knows the reason, he can’t help feeling a bit flattered.

 

“I know,” Louis laughs. “I’m sorry, I really am and I’m gonna keep it under control okay?” he says, turning his upper body towards Harry and looking at him in the eyes. “Because what Simon said, it’s bullshit. I don’t believe it and neither should you. We’re better with you in the band, anyone with eyes can see it!”

 

“What do you mean keep it under control?” Harry blurts instead of accepting the compliment.

 

Louis widens his eyes and opens his mouth before closing it again. “I…”

 

He’s speechless. Louis is actually speechless and Harry would find it hilarious since in all the time they’ve known each other that has never happened, but it’s not funny at all when Harry needs those answers more than he’s ever needed anything in his life.

 

“Just that I’m going to keep my distances, you know?” Louis finally finds his voice. Or a higher pitched, faster-paced version of his voice at least.

 

“Why would you do that?” Harry asks, licking his lips, mentally preparing himself for what he's about to say next. "When it's mutual?"

 

Usually, when Louis smiles, it's like his entire face opens up. His eyes brighten and crinkle at the corner and Harry feels like he's staring directly into the sun, soaking up everything that's good and warm in the world. This one is a hundred times better.

 

"Is it?" Louis teases, moving his right leg a fraction closer to Harry, pressing their knees delicately together.

 

Harry hums happily, nodding slowly with a blink. "Lil' bit,” he says, reaching shyly for Louis’ hand, tangling their fingers together on Louis’ thighs.

 

Louis grins in response, eyes fixed down on their hands. “Well, I gotta say, Harold that is very good news,”  he says with a delighted laugh that makes Harry’s heart clench happily. He raises their hands to his mouth, smacking Harry’s loudly and wetly, letting it go quickly to reach for Harry’s neck instead. “Come here,” Louis whispers seconds before pressing their lips together.

 

Harry’s been kissed before. He would dare to say he’s quite good at it. He’s kissed past girlfriends and boyfriends on the playground back in primary, has made out with quite a few of his crushes since then and even Johnny, who helps him with his heat, usually indulges in a bit of snogging between mates while he knots Harry. None of those past experiences has felt like this, though, none of them made him hard and wet like this, none of them made his heart race quite like this, made him feel young and inexperienced, overwhelmed and exposed. With Louis biting at his lips, licking into his mouth, breathing into him, Harry feels invincible.

 

~*~

 

The next day, they barely make it through rehearsals without imploding. Or at least, Harry thinks so. He feels like every single of his limbs is on fire, his skin scorched and painful until it comes into contact with Louis’, the hours until they can finally go back to the X-Factor house and try to have a bit of privacy dragging on and on as they practice each of their songs for the week over and over again. Surely they’re perfect now, Harry thinks viciously after the choreographer makes them start again from the top for what feels like the millionth times. Harry hasn’t kissed Louis since the five minutes bathroom break they were able to steal over lunch and, without being dramatic, he’s now convinced that one more second without it will lead to his certain and painful death.

 

“Again?” he grumbles behind Brian’s back.

 

“Someone’s grumpy today,” Zayn teases, poking at Harry’s belly with his pinkie and chuckling into his water bottle when Harry pouts and sends him a dirty look in response.

 

It’s not funny. It’s not funny at all. He’s been separated from Louis for about a month now and, even though it was his song idea, Harry has never hated anything more than he hates  _Summer of ‘69_ right this second.

 

“Yeah, what’s up with you Hazza?” Louis calls from the other side of the stage, a mischievous look on his face. “The cheerleaders here got you all excited?”

 

The rest of the boys cackles, patting him on the back but Harry’s eyes can’t leave Louis. He’s enthralled by the way he licks his lips, his fingers handling his microphone suggestively. It’s not only obscene but also unfair and most of all not necessary at all when they’re both suffering here.

 

“Yeah,” Harry replies decisively, slowly taking a gulp of water, wrapping his lips around the bottle. “Real excited,” he adds, not even pretending to hide his move to adjust himself in his jeans.

 

He can clearly see Louis gulping from afar and suddenly, continuing to rehearse doesn’t seem so painful anymore.

 

 _Might even be fun,_ Harry thinks with a smirk while he walks back to his mark on the stage.

 

~*~

 

They haven’t been back at the house for five minutes when Harry feels his mobile vibrating in his pocket with a text from Louis that simply says  _bathroom. 10 min._ His breath hitches when he reads it, palms getting sweatier as he feels his dick already hardening in his pants and he glances around the room nervously, hoping nobody has noticed.

 

He makes it to seven minutes before waiting becomes completely insufferable and he has to excuse himself hastily, taking the steps two at a time when he reaches the stairs, bumbling into the bathroom in mere seconds.

 

“Finally,” Harry sighs, closing the door as silently as possible.

 

Louis giggles into his mouth, pushing him into the door as soon as it’s closed. “Fuck,” he mumbles, biting at Harry’s bottom lip, aligning their hips. “Been thinking about this all day.”

 

Harry whines, rolling his hips to press his hard cock against Louis’ and fumbling around his t-shirt to grab at his naked back. Louis groans at the contact on his bare skin and he stops licking into Harry’s mouth to stare at him.

 

“Fuck you’re gorgeous,” Louis pants and Harry can feel him everywhere.

 

He can feel the hardness of his body against his, can feel the pulse of his heartbeat, but, more importantly, he can feel how much this means to Louis too, how much he wants him back and it’s overwhelming. The air is honeyed with the smell of their arousal and it doesn’t matter that it’s a secret, it doesn’t matter that they have zero privacy in this madhouse and on this show, because what they feel for each other is bigger than any of those things.

 

Harry laughs when Louis drops his head down onto his shoulder and start nosing at the skin behind his ears, but it quickly transforms into a moan when Louis sniffs at him and gives him a bite, his hips grinding purposefully against Harry’s.

 

“Lou,” Harry gasps, red-cheeked and already embarrassingly close to coming, the back of his boxers wet and clinging.

 

Louis doesn’t reply straight away, not with words. He just rubs their clothed cocks together, his movement getting more and more desperate while his fingers’ grip on Harry's hips tightens, tight enough to bruise. The thought of having sex bruises that he wants, bruises made when he was there, clear minded and conscious, makes Harry whine a bit more desperately. He’s always self-conscious after his heat, always trying to hide the unfortunate marks scattered on his skin, too embarrassed by what they symbolise and ashamed at the thought of someone seeing his lack of control and what his body is supposedly made for. Today the thought of the imprint Louis’ fingers might leave on his pale skin brings him this much closer to the edge. He’s choosing this, this is happening to him because he wanted to and it’s happening with Louis not because they had to but because they like each other’s minds, each other’s bodies.

 

“Fuck,” Louis groans into Harry’s throat, panting as he starts to come in his pants. “How do you smell so good?” he adds shakily and it’s that more than anything else that pushes Harry into a messy orgasm.

 

“I… hum,” Harry smiles at Louis’ stained crotch after they’re done catching their breaths. “I thought alphas knotted every time?” he giggles.

 

“What?” Louis snorts. “No, it hum… Usually, it’s only if actual fucking is involved. With an omega I mean! Fucking an omega… Or if an alpha gets a bit too excited, but that rarely happens.”

 

Louis blushes as he says it, his smell suddenly sharpened and embarrassed, and surely there’s a story there that Harry will have to tickle out of him later. For now, he just licks his lips and nods. “Ah.”

 

“Thought you’d know that being an omega yourself,” Louis teases, rubbing the tip of their noses together.

 

Harry blushes and shrugs. Truth be told, he’s never really fooled around with anyone outside of his heat before and he’s not quite sure being fucked over and over while he’s completely out of his mind really counts.

 

“I’ve never really done this before,” he admits after a few seconds. “I mean, obviously, I’ve done heat stuff,” he adds with an eye roll. “But it’s not…” Harry coughs in his fist to buy himself some time. “I’m pretty out of it most of the time so it doesn’t really count.”

 

Louis’ eyes soften and he reaches for Harry’s hands as soon as the words are out of his mouths, tangling their fingers together and pressing three quick kisses on his mouth.

 

“Well, I’ve never been with an omega before and I’ve never done the whole heat thing, so… I guess we’ll learn together, yeah?”

 

Harry smiles and nods, tilting his head up, silently demanding more kisses. Louis obliges with a laugh, pushing Harry up against the door again, his movement languid and relaxed now that he’s come.

 

“We should clean up,” Harry says regretfully after they’ve snogged for almost five minutes. “The others are gonna start wondering where we are…”

 

“Quite right Harold,” Louis replies with a mischievous smile, grabbing Harry behind the thighs to start carrying him towards the shower. “Can’t have you smell like come for dinner,” he keeps on teasing as he fiddles with the shower settings, one arm still supporting Harry’s bum.

 

“Put me down!” Harry squirms.

 

“Not until you’re squeaky clean,” Louis laughs, dumping Harry fully clothed under the spray.

 

~*~

 

“What were you doing?” Liam asks suspiciously once they get back into their bedroom to find some clean clothes. “Why are your clothes all wet?” he adds, giving the bundled material in their arms a confused glance.

 

“I’ve introduced our dear Harry here to the wonders of clothed showering,” Louis replies nonchalantly, already rummaging through the piles of clothes on the floor to find something to wear.

 

“What he means is that he lured me in the toilet promising to show me something sick and then pushed me in and put the shower on,” Harry complains exaggeratedly, hoping his lack of acting skills won’t get picked up by Liam.

 

“Same difference,” Louis shrugs, giving Harry a wink.

 

Liam sighs, shaking his head fondly, and closes his laptop. “I don’t even want to know. I’ll see your downstairs.”

 

**_ December 2010 _ **

_Week 9_

 

It's dark and cramped in the studio's closets. It's really cramped actually. Harry has what feels like a broom pressed against his back and whenever Louis grinds against him too hard it digs in painfully. Still, it's somewhere private where they can disappear for a bit when rehearsing starts taking it's toll on them or they start craving for each other too much… Which is basically every second of every day.

 

They've been gone for three minutes now which means someone will start looking for them in two and it’s a shame really because kissing Louis for three minutes makes him want to kiss him forever and they don't have that luxury. They're making it work, though, one stolen moment after the other. It's a miracle they haven't gotten caught yet.

 

There's a commotion in the corridor outside just as Louis starts biting on Harry's bottom lip and they both sigh as they separate regretfully.

 

"Well," Louis pants. "Looks like we're gonna have to get back."

 

Harry nods before remembering Louis can't see him in the dark like this. "Yeah," he replies, mentally listing the grossest things he can imagine in the hope he'll be only sporting a semi once he gets out.

 

"Shame," Louis replies, fingers reaching out to stroke at Harry's collarbones, which really doesn't help the situation. "It was starting to get interesting."

 

"Oh my god, stop touching me I'm literally going to-"

 

"Burst?" Louis offers teasingly.

 

"Oh god," Harry laughs, head dropping on Louis' shoulder.

 

"At least, we're in the same boat, yeah?" Louis replies, pressing his crotch against Harry's thigh to make him feel his own predicament.

 

"Should have brought my spray," Harry mumbles shyly when he feels himself getting wetter.

 

"S'alright," Louis says reassuringly, sliding his hand from Harry's shoulder to the curve of his bum, letting it rest there protectively. "You're not scenting at all, promise."

 

"I think you're just getting immune to it."

 

Louis laughs and shakes his head before tilting Harry's to gain access to his neck, pressing his nose against his pulse point and breathing in. "No way in hell," he whispers before licking at Harry's skin. "You just smell a lot like me these days," he adds nonchalantly, like it's not a big deal like it doesn't make Harry's heart skip a beat to hear it.

 

"What?"

 

"Yeah... Sorry. I mean, it's not that obvious, s'not like we're mated or anything like that," Louis babbles nervously. "I noticed it is all. Anyway, you don't smell like an omega right now is what I meant to say. So we're good. I'll go first and then come join us in two?"

 

Harry rolls his eyes but agrees quickly to the stratagem. It's not like the entire crew doesn't already know they've probably run away together to cause mischief. They've been attached to the hips since they were put in a band after all and while nobody, even Harry, knows the exact nature of their relationship, they know enough to guess that wherever they’ve run off to, it was together.

 

Brian gives him the dirtiest look when he finally gets back. He sighs loudly, pushing Harry towards the stage where the rest of the band is waiting for him. “You lot are lucky Simon isn’t here today, he certainly wouldn’t be tolerating that kind of behaviour.”

 

“Bathroom breaks?” Louis laughs and that’s their excuse apparently. It’s a pretty weak one, but Harry guesses he doesn’t have a choice but to go along with it.

 

“Even Simon can’t regulate when we pee,” he adds, his heart fluttering when he sees Louis snorting loudly and putting a hand on his mouth to try and hide it.

 

Even Brian is amused, even if he would never admit it. He just shakes his head at Harry with a small smile on his face and gesture for him to find his mark on the stage.

 

~*~

 

“Feeding each other!” Zayn says teasingly as he offers a piece to Louis who eats it off his hand. “Bromances!”

 

“You’re that close? Are you?” one of their cooks asks with a big smile for the camera while Harry is in his corner seeing red, a possessiveness he’d never known he had roaring deep in his belly.

 

This feels a thousand times worse than the Aiden thing.

 

Before, Harry had no claim on Louis and couldn’t allow himself to be bothered. They were friends nothing more. Now things are different and there’s no part of him trying to rationalize why he shouldn’t feel jealous, there’s not part of him trying to stop the completely insane desire he has of immediately physically removing Louis from Zayn’s proximity

 

“I’m getting jealous over here,” he says firmly, reaching out to stop Zayn from feeding Louis again. He can’t quite reach, but his frustration calms slightly when he sees Louis pushing the food away himself.

 

 _Good_ , he thinks, vindicated.

 

~*~

 

It is a well-known fact that there are different perspectives to every story. That being said, Harry is pretty sure he’s absolutely entitled to his feelings and that no matter what his bandmates are saying, he is not sulking.

 

Zayn snorts on the bed to his left and Harry huffs before turning his back to them, frowning at the wall.

 

“Harry’s in a sulk,” Zayn giggles, rolling his r exaggeratingly.

 

Niall laughs loudly in response. "Poor Hazza," he teases. " He doesn't like it when we try to steal Louis' attention."

 

 _That is just blatantly untrue_ , Harry thinks fiercely, choosing to stay silent.

 

There's nothing abnormal about him being upset at Zayn trying to feed Louis, like they're dating or something, like he's the one Louis has spent the past couple of weeks making out with... So yeah, he's annoyed and quite rightly so. He knows they're not mated, not even dating really, but feeding is really intimate. Too intimate and yes Harry was maybe, a tiny bit, jealous. There's nothing wrong with the healthy expressions of his feelings and they can all go fuck themselves for all he cares.

 

“Come on lads,” Louis laughs. “Leave him alone.”

 

“Nahhhh,” Zayn replies with a laugh. “It’s too funny that he’s having a major strop over this. Besides, if it were anyone else you’d be mocking them too for being ridiculously sensitive.”

 

“We’re together, okay?” Harry blurts out angrily, untangling himself from his duvet and getting up in the middle of the room. He doesn’t even try to sneak a look at Louis’ reaction. They haven’t even technically said that they are together but Harry hopes that he’ll agree with his statement either way.

 

“What?” Liam asks from where he’s fiddling with his alarm clock. He has an utterly confused expression on his face.

 

“We’re together, me and Louis, and I don’t like it when he flirts with other people. Now can you all leave me alone about it?”

 

For a second there it feels like time has stopped. Nobody says anything and Harry is so nervous himself he can’t pick up any of their feelings. He can only sense his own trembling beneath the surface.

 

“But what about when you’ll present?” Niall finally asks slowly, brows furrowed. He looks like he’s trying to solve a complicated problem but he can’t quite get there. And how could he, when he’s missing such an important piece of the puzzle. “Are you… Are you gonna still hook up when he’s an alpha?” he turns towards Louis.

 

It’s Zayn who answers. “Niall, Harry’s never gonna present as an alpha,” he says with a sigh like it’s obvious, and Harry shouldn’t be surprised because Louis said Zayn had probably figured it out, but it still makes his heart skip a beat to hear him.

 

There’s nowhere left to hide anymore.

 

“What are you talking about?” Liam asks. “Harry? What is he talking about?”

 

Harry knows what he has to say but he can’t quite find the word yet. He gulps and passes a nervous hand through his curls, lowering his gaze to his fuzzy socks. They’re Louis’. He’d given them to him the night before while loudly complaining that Harry’s freezing toes were gonna be the death of him.

 

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly before opening his mouth. “I’ve already presented,” he finally admits wetly. “Months before my first audition,” he says when he feels Louis sliding next to him to hold his hand.

 

“What?” Niall exclaims.

 

“I’m an omega,” Harry adds quickly while he has the courage. “Surprise,” he says with fake enthusiasm, looking back up to his bandmates. He’s so angry and upset he doesn’t even have the time to feel fear after what he just said. “I didn’t want to ruin the whole band of alphas dream thing you had going on… That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

 

“Oh, Harry,” Liam says sadly.

 

“Sorry,” he adds with a sniff. He can’t cry. He absolutely cannot cry in front of them, not after admitting what he just did.

 

“No,” Niall replies, quickly reaching for him and enveloping him in a fierce hug that smells like love and a hint of shock. “We’re the ones who are sorry.”

 

“S’okay,” Harry mumbles into his shoulder even though it really wasn’t at the time.

 

“No,” Liam says firmly, joining the hug and petting at Harry’s curls. “It’s my fault,” he adds and Harry can hear his voice shaking. He smells guilty; it’s radiating off him in big waves that engulf the whole room. “I should never have said what I did at the Bungalow. It was awful and I knew but I said it anyway…” he trails off with a gulp. “That’s why you didn’t tell us, right?”

 

It partly is the reason but Harry really doesn’t want to say. Especially not with Liam already feeling so awful about it.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” he says instead, smiling a little when he feels Zayn approaching them and giving him a small kiss on the head before trying to wrap his arms around all three of them.

 

“It’s in the past, yeah babe?” Zayn asks towards Liam. “There are things we’ve all said that weren’t good, but we all know now and we’ll do better, yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” Liam agrees.

 

“Promise Haz,” Niall says directly against Harry’s cheek.

 

Harry feels his eyes fill up and he starts blinking, unsuccessfully trying to stop the tears from coming. “Thank you,” he ends up saying, voice full of emotion.

 

~*~

 

Three hours later, Harry is sobbing alone in the bathroom.

 

He’s not quite sure why.

 

Everything went perfectly well, better than he could have hoped or imagined if he’s being honest with himself. It went so well and yet, Harry felt weirdly exposed, lying down in bed and listening to the peaceful breathing of his bandmates. They couldn’t have been more supportive or reacted better and still he tossed and turned, feeling inexplicably anxious until he got sick of it, got up to pee and burst into tears at the sight of his reflection in the mirror. And here he is now, sat on the toilet, sobbing into a piece of toilet paper. He probably looks like a complete cliché and he doesn’t even have the energy to care.

 

Everything is going to be different now that the boys all know. It might make things like his heat logistically easier but it means that they’re going to treat him differently too like he’s fragile or needs coddling. It’s already started. Yes, the hugging and the support was nice and lovely. Harry would be lying if he said he didn’t need it at the time but he’s also pretty sure Liam and Niall wouldn’t have acted like this if he’d reveal he had been a beta all along.

 

 _What if they start trying to make decisions for me?_ he thinks, starting a new downward spiral of anxiety with a new sob. What if they don’t listen to his ideas anymore? What if they don’t think his vote in the band matters?

 

Rationally, he knows Louis, Liam, Niall and Zayn aren’t like that. But a lot of alphas are. A lot of alphas reveal themselves to be. Harry remembers all the pamphlets he received after presenting and it’s quite worrying; the thought of thinking you know someone until your true self is revealed to them and suddenly seeing them change before your very eyes as they start thinking less of you.

 

He’s stuck in unknown territory; something only the future can tell and it’s driving him slowly mad. He can’t fall asleep knowing tomorrow might bring the complete destruction of all of his dreams and his entrance into boyband hell.

 

His exaggerated thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door and Harry stops breathing in response, hiding his face into his wet piece of loo roll in hope that the person will go away.

 

“Haz?” a voice calls softly through the door and, of course, it’s Louis. “You alright?”

 

He doesn’t reply, closing his eyes and pretending he’s not there.

 

“I know you’re in here. The light is on and I could hear you crying.”

 

“I’m busy,” Harry replies in a small voice. He really hopes it doesn’t sound as utterly pathetic as he feels.

 

“Can you be busy opening the door?”

 

“No.”

 

“Harry,” Louis sighs in his alpha voice and it sounds delicious to Harry’s ears.

 

“I’m okay. You can go back to sleep.”

 

“I can’t. Not when I know you’re upset babe. Come on. Talk to me.”

 

“I’m fine,” Harry replies stubbornly even though it’s pretty clear by now that he’s not.

 

“Why are you crying then?” Louis asks and clearly this is a flaw in Harry’s  _making Louis believe I’m 100% fine_ plan that he simply hadn’t previously considered. He’s about to bullshit his way out of it when he realises he doesn’t have the energy for it.

 

“I’m just scared,” he admits defeated.

 

“But they took it so well.”

 

“What if…” Harry feels his eyes filling up with tears again. “What if they don’t think my ideas are worth it anymore?”

 

“Hazza,” Louis says sadly.

 

“I know,” Harry sniffs. “I know it’s stupid, okay? I can’t help it.”

 

“Open the door,” Louis begs, knocking twice.

 

“They give you pamphlets, you know. At the doctors’, once you’ve presented. All that stuff about not going out alone during your heat and not being a tease or provoking alphas… About how they’re stronger and tend to take the lead while omegas follow. They don’t say you should or shouldn’t follow orders, I guess that depends on the bondmates and stuff... But they still say you might be ordered about.”

 

Harry thinks about it a lot. That red and black pamphlet. It’s all torn at the edges now, he’s read it so often. He doesn’t want to be ordered about.

 

“I know it’s probably not what you want to hear, considering I’m an alpha too, but I’d never let them order you around,” Louis says fiercely and it shouldn’t feel different than any other alpha thinking he can’t take care of himself, but it does. It does because Louis is sweet and Harry knows he means well. They like each other and they want good things for each other and their band.

 

Harry doesn’t reply for a long time. Long enough that when he finally makes up his mind and opens the door Louis has a slightly worried look in his eyes that vanishes into relief the minute he meets Harry’s gaze.

 

“It’s not what I wanted to hear but it’s true and what you meant. I like the truth. You have good intentions, right?”

 

“Towards you always,” Louis says seriously before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

 

Harry feels all fuzzy inside as he sneaks his way into Louis’ arms, nuzzling at his neck and taking a deep breath of one of his favourite variation of Louis’ scent; sleepy and fond.

 

“You’ll tell me, right?”

 

“What,” Harry mumbles, feeling his eyes starting to drop.

 

“If you feel like I’m ordering you around? Me or the boys. ‘Cause I don’t want to do that. Even by accident. So you have to tell me.”

 

“I will.”

 

“Promise?” Louis asks, holding out his pinkie to Harry’s face.

 

Harry laughs. “I’m an omega, not a child,” he replies, grimacing towards the finger even if he thinks Louis is being extra cute tonight.

 

“Pinkie promises have no expiration dates, what are you on about?” Louis says, loud in his offense.

 

Harry tries to hush him despite his laughter and ends up mostly unsuccessful. “You’ll wake up the whole bloody house with your rubbish,” he whispers.

 

“My rubbish?” Louis whispers back. “You’re the one who locked himself in the bathroom.”

 

“Whatever,” Harry says, hiding into Louis’ chest.

 

“I have an idea,” Louis offers, his hand starting to rub circles into Harry’s lower back.

 

“What?”

 

“How about we stop bickering and go cuddle in your bed to freak the lads tomorrow morning?”

 

Harry smiles. “Okay.”

 

~*~

 

“What are you doing?” Harry asks a couple of nights later when he stumbles upon Louis arched over the stove.

 

He jumps at the noise and drops the spoon he was holding, the loud clatter on the kitchen floor the only noise that can be heard.

 

“What are  _you_ doing?” Louis asks accusingly.

 

“Looking for you?” Harry answers slowly, feeling slightly blindsided. “What are you doing?” he repeats because it surely can’t be what it looks like.

 

“You’re supposed to be with Niall and Liam?!” Louis sighs as he gets down to pick up his utensil and takes a moment to peer into the oven.

 

There’s something cooking in there, something Louis is apparently responsible for and Harry, having witnessed weeks of Louis making nothing but cereals or toasts, feels quite confused.  

 

“I was tired of playing twenty questions about omegas with them,” Harry chuckles.

 

His bandmates are sweet, they really are. Their obvious quest to educate themselves about omegas’ lives and issues is quite frankly adorable and Harry  _is_ touched. Of course, he is, but it’s also extremely intrusive, despite their best intentions, and after two full days of them asking and texting him a thousand questions, Harry is about to lose his mind.

 

Louis gives a sympathetic look in response. “I’m sorry about them.”

 

Harry shrugs. “They’re trying,” he replies with a sheepish smile. “I’m lucky,” Harry adds with a gulp.

 

Louis nods. “So, think you might want to go back upstairs and tell them all about how lucky you are for maybe…” He sneaks another peak at the oven. “Ten? Fifteen minutes?”

 

“No,” Harry protests with a scoff. “Not until you tell me what you’re up to. I don’t want the house to burn down,” he teases, taking a few steps towards Louis.

 

“Oi!” Louis warns, placing himself in front of whatever it is that he seems to be preparing, arms spread out in a defensive manner.  
  
Harry frowns and reaches for his left bicep, trying to get him to put his arm down. It’s no use, Louis is stronger than he is, but Harry tries his hardest.

 

“Stop it!” Louis says in an amused lower voice as he wraps both of his arms around Harry’s waist and start walking him back to the stairs. “You go back upstairs and wait for your surprise like a nice boy okay?”

 

Harry gasps and grins. “A surprise?”

 

“Yes, now shoo Hazza.”

 

“You’re cooking?” Harry asks, still trying to see into the kitchen.

 

“I can neither confirm nor deny that I am.”

 

“You are, though,” Harry giggles. “You’re cooking for me. You don’t even know how to cook.”

 

“Will you go back upstairs?” Louis laughs fondly. “Jesus, whoever said omegas are supposed to be docile clearly hasn’t met you,” he mumbles.

 

“Heyyy,” Harry protests but he’s still smiling. How can he not?

 

“It’s a surprise,” Louis insists, pecking Harry on the cheek.

 

“Why?”

 

Louis shrugs, slipping a hand under Harry’s polo, spreading his fingers on his lower back. “Just wanted to cheer you up… You were pretty upset the other night when the boys found out so I’d thought it’d be nice.”

 

“It is,” Harry agrees seriously. “It’s very nice,” he says before clearing his throat.

 

Louis is too overwhelming sometimes. Harry isn’t very good at dealing with it.

 

“Now that you’ve properly snooped and ruined the surprise, will you go back upstairs until I’m done?” Louis asks like he’s talking to a hyperactive five years old. It should feel condescending but mostly it sounds fond.

 

“Alright,” Harry smiles, taking a step back. “I’m leaving,” he says with a laugh.

 

Louis stares at him fondly as he takes a few step and starts climbing the stairs backwards.

 

~*~

 

“Just pretend to be stirring or something!” Harry says sternly, fiddling with his phone.

 

“I’m not going to pretend I’m still cooking for you to take a picture of it, Harry… Your need to document everything is ridiculous. Now come and sit down before it gets cold. I worked really hard on this, y’know.”

 

“Please?” Harry pouts, waving his phone.

 

Louis sighs in response but still get out of his seat.

 

“You’re lucky I like you so much,” he whispers into the corner of Harry’s mouth, giving him a tiny kiss before taking place in front of the stove and putting on a very serious concentrated face.

 

Harry thinks this might be what happiness actually feels like; his band getting bigger and bigger every week and him getting to experience it with the kindest, funniest, most beautiful alpha he’s ever met.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**_December 2010_ **

_Week 10_

Being a finalist on the X-Factor involves a lot. If Harry thought they were busy before, it’s nothing compared to all of the things they have to cram in this one final week, this one week that’s more important than all the others combined. It’s their last chance to show the entirety of Britain their full potential and to convinced them that One Direction is the one act that deserves a record deal.

Of course, the British public doesn’t know Simon has already offered them a record deal and that, no matter their position in the competition, One Direction will be recording under Syco in the new year. It’s completely mental and Harry’s heart goes into overdrive whenever he thinks about signing the papers and the fact that this time next year, they’ll have an album out. They’ll have a proper album with their band’s name on in and their voices on songs… It’s so much it distracts Harry from all the work they still have to do.

Because no matter what they’ve already secured for themselves, the final is, non negotiably, their biggest challenge to date. The last thing Harry wants to do is to disappoint Simon and all the people at Sony who believe in them. Securing their number one spot on the competition would be the best way to prove to them that having faith in the band was not in vain and, more personally, that choosing an omega like him to complete One Direction’s line up was not a mistake.

They need to win. Harry doesn’t think he could live with himself if they don’t.

~*~

Amongst all the rehearsals and the jitters of everyone in the band, there’s one thing that they are all desperately looking forward to and that’s the home visit. Harry has been counting down the days until they’re finally going to leave London to explore all of their hometowns and when the morning of their departure finally arrives, he can barely stand still.

“What’s gotten into you?” Niall asks moodily as they’re all getting into the car.

It takes Harry a second too long to remember that they can’t go to Ireland and that’s probably why Niall is smelling a hint bitter in the cold morning air.

“I’m excited to go back home,” Harry replies with a shrug, trying to not let his enthusiasm show too much. There’s no reason for him to be unnecessarily rude.

“Yeah,” Niall replies with a nod. “Can’t say I’m not curious to see all of your houses.”

“Sorry we can’t go to yours,” Harry says, resting his head on Niall’s shoulder in a comforting manner.

“S’alright curly, not your fault.”

“Tell you what,” Louis says from Harry’s other side. He’s rubbing a hand nonchalantly on Harry’s thigh and it’s making him feel drowsy already. “We’ll all take a trip to visit Ireland when we get the chance, yeah? Make a proper lads holiday, like we did at the Bungalow.”

Harry feels Niall’s mood change at Louis’ comment, most of the frustration and sadness lifting like a veil. Harry would agree but he’s falling asleep already, rocked by the movement of the car and Louis’ hand petting him the way he likes best.

~*~

Harry wakes up to the softness of Louis’ voice and his hand scratching at the curls at the nape of his neck.

“We’re here love,” Louis whispers and Harry peers through the window to see that they have finally arrived into Holmes Chapel. It takes them less than ten minutes to get to where Harry lives.

They turn on his street and the first thing he sees isn’t his house but the people. They’re stretched all over his lawn, all over the neighbours’, and they all cheer when they see the car approaching. It’s people from his neighbourhood, friends from school and their families, his colleagues from the bakery he used to work part time in; all of them there to show Harry and his band their support and it makes something fizzy like champagne sizzle under his skin. Some of them are holding old school pictures of Harry tightly, starting to wave them around when the car comes to a stop and the band finally emerges.

Louis squeezes his bicep as he climbs out of the vehicle and the noise level increases.

Harry gets applauded, cheered on, patted on the back and it’s a lot, to see all these people who matter to him, and who have mattered to him most of his life, there to support this crazy new adventure of his. It’s something to know that the people back home are cheering him on and voting for his band every week, but it’s completely different to see it in person like this. All of those people who have known him for so long believing that he can achieve this.  He’d be lying if he said he didn’t get a bit choked up when he finally gets inside to be wrapped in the biggest hug ever by his mother and sister.

“Welcome home!” Gemma yells in his ear, ruffling his hair embarrassingly for the cameras.

Harry has missed her so much. He can’t see or feel anything beyond his family’s embrace and Louis’ fond laugh somewhere to his left.

He’s home.

~*~

They drink champagne and film a couple of segments in the kitchen, Robin talking about what a family they’ve become and Harry can’t help looking at Louis, heart full when he sees him looking back with that fond, soft look in his eyes. They haven’t put concrete words to this yet, but in that moment, Harry knows that they don’t really need to. Why would they need words when they can look at each other like this?

The visit goes by in a flash and suddenly, the morning has disappeared and they’re being told to get a move on because they have to get back on the road to get to Louis’ hometown. It’s been entirely too short and Harry feels like he hasn’t soaked up enough of his family’s pride and belief in him yet.

“Already?” Louis complains with a pout from where he’s playing cards with Gemma.

They get on frighteningly well for two people who haven’t known each other very long.

“Surely there’s enough time for me to snoop into Harry’s bedroom? See if there’s any bribing material in there?” Louis continues and Harry’s eyes widen.

He’s not really ready to show his personal belongings to Louis when his entire family and a camera crew are present. Even Simon Cowell, who has been the first one to encourage the five alphas narrative of their band, probably couldn’t resist the drama of exposing all of Harry’s omega books on the telly and exploiting it for a few more ratings. Besides, regardless of what he would or wouldn’t do, Harry certainly doesn’t want to give him the footage or the opportunity.

“That won’t be necessary,” he replies quickly. “We gotta go, right?” he asks one of the producers who nods sternly.

“Let’s pack it up!” the alpha barks to all the crew members. “You lot should get back to the cars, Harry you’ve got five minutes to say goodbye.”

Five minutes doesn’t seem like enough when his mother drags him upstairs to tell him goodbye in private.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers into his hair with a shaky voice.

“Don’t cry mum,” Harry complains with a laugh. “Otherwise, I’m gonna cry too.”

 

“Alright, alright,” she agrees, letting him go to stare into his face. “Look at you, my baby’s going to record an album…”

Harry beams at the thought of what lies ahead. “Yeah, hopefully as an X-Factor winner.”

“I know you can do it,” Anne says with a smile, eyes shining proudly. There’s a hint of mischief on her face that Harry doesn’t quite understand until she opens her mouth again. “Still nothing going on with Louis? Now that all the boys know?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows and Harry can’t say he wasn’t expecting it at some point, but he hasn’t really prepared himself for an intrusive sneaky attack.

After he originally called her to say that the boys were all aware of his gender, Harry thought he was going to get grilled about his relationship with all of them, especially with Louis. When it didn’t happen straight away, he assumed his mother had simply given up. He now realises she was only waiting to do it face to face.

 

Unsure what to reply, Harry sighs dramatically. “I’m surprised you lasted this long before asking.”

“Yeah, yeah you have a nosy mother,” Anne says, kissing both of Harry’s cheeks. “Now spill.”

“Well…” Harry blushes and tries to shrug nonchalantly. “I suppose we’re together… A bit.”

“It’s serious?” Anne asks quickly, excitedly. She has a huge knowing smile on her face and Harry would be annoyed except he can’t deny himself the excitement of finally sharing this with her.

He bites his lips and nods. It’s a complicated question, but there’s really only one answer. “I… I think so. But it’s… quite new,” he says hesitantly.

“Alright, I get it, baby. It’s none of my business.”

“It’s not that. We just haven’t really talked about it. With the show and signing the deal… But it’s…” Harry struggles for a few seconds. There doesn’t seem to have words strong enough. “He’s my best friend,” he finally admits. “When I’m with him, I feel like… Like everything is as it’s supposed to be, you know? Like I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

Anne nods, unshed tears shining in her eyes. She hugs him again, burying her face in his hair and taking deep breaths, her hold on him tight and loving.

“S’alright mum,” Harry whispers when he hears her sniffing. “Show’s almost done and then I’m coming back home.”

“You’re growing up so fast.”

“Not too fast,” Harry promises and it rings hollow even to his ears.

Anne just sighs and kisses the top of his head.

She doesn’t let him go until they hear Louis’ voice calling for them from the living room. They go down the stairs together, his mother’s hand gripping his tightly as they reach the rest of the band and Harry’s family.

“Ready Haz?” Louis asks him.

Harry nods before letting go of his mother’s hand and turning towards Gemma and Robin to give them hugs too. Once he’s done, he turns back around only to be faced with the sight of his mother embracing Louis tightly. It takes him by surprise for a second, gone before he can fully feel it, to be replaced by a warmth at the sight in front of him.

“You lot be careful,” Anne says warningly. It’s not threatening, his mother isn’t like that, but Harry has no doubt that Louis understands that by you she doesn’t mean the band if the look he gives Harry over her shoulder is anything to be trusted.

“Of course, Anne,” Louis replies seriously as he steps out of the hug. “You have nothing to worry about,” he adds, their eyes locking for a few seconds too long.

They get disturbed by the car honking and Louis laughs.

“I think someone is getting impatient,” Anne says, eyes looking for Harry. She smiles when she meets his gaze.

“Yeah,” Harry nods, letting himself be led outside by his entire family.

He starts waving at them from the car as soon as he’s seated, doesn’t even bother with his belt as the car starts driving off.

“Belt please,” Liam calls from the front seat but Harry is too busy staring at where his family and friends are getting smaller and smaller.

“Here,” Louis says, half climbing on him to buckle him up. “Sorted.”

Harry knows his life completely changed the second he got that first yes in Manchester, but somehow this is the moment he feels like he’s truly leaving something behind, a version of himself he’s not sure quite exists anymore.

“Okay?” Louis asks in a whisper, dropping a kiss against Harry’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Harry agrees in a hoarse voice, reaching toward Louis’ lap to tangle their fingers together. “Yeah.”

~*~

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” Harry whispers to Zayn as they’re about to perform for what might be the last time on the X-Factor.

“Me too,” Zayn replies and he does look a little green.

“I know we’re all sorted…” Liam starts with a grimace on his face. “But how sick would it be to actually win?”

“I don’t want us to lose,” Louis admits shyly. “Not when we managed to get so far…”

“You guys need to shut up,” Niall interrupts with wide eyes. “‘Cause you’re making me want to throw up too.”

The anxiety is spiralling between them, off the charts, and they only have a couple of minutes before it’s their turn. They can’t go on like this.

“Okay, no,” Harry says firmly. “Enough. We might get eliminated tonight, least we can do is make it a nice swan song.”

They all nod enthusiastically, willing to let him distract them from their nerves.

“The show gave us… so much,” he continues, eyes meeting Louis’. “Let’s give something back, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis smiles, extending his arm between them, palm down.

They all gather in a circle around Louis, putting all of their hands on his and tangling themselves together.

“One, two, three, we push.”

 

~*~

“The act still in the competition is…” Dermot says dramatically and this might be the longest pause of Harry’s life. “Rebecca!”

Harry can feel Simon deflating behind him, can feel his bandmates’ spark of anguish, can see Rebecca’s mouth opening in complete shock and him… he feels nothing.

They lost.

~*~

It doesn’t fully hit him until they’re escorted backstage. That’s when he bursts into tears, an uncontrollable flood of shame and disappointment pouring down his face.

Louis grabs him by the arm and starts walking them into a dark empty corner. He only stops once he’s satisfied that they’ve exiled themselves enough that no one will come to bother them and wraps Harry in a shaky embrace.  

“Let it out,” Louis whispers, rubbing on Harry’s back as he cries and cries. “It’s okay, baby.”

It’s not. It’s really not okay. He wanted it so bad and now they’ve failed.

Of course, they haven’t, not completely. How can someone say they failed when they got a record deal out of it and a small legion of fans armed with promises of their undying support and devotion. It’s more than enough for a good start, but Harry really wanted them to win. Just to prove to himself, to Simon, that betting on them was the right choice.

“I…” Harry sobs harder and he’s glad Louis led them away from the intrusive cameras. This is mortifying and he doesn’t want anybody else sharing this moment.

Louis hums, understanding as ever, and he’s disappointed and upset too, Harry can feel it, but he still takes care of him regardless.

“I really wanted to win,” Harry sobs into Louis’ shoulder.

“I know,” Louis gulps and he’s on the verge of tears too.

They’re a complete mess, two pathetic idiots crying over something that, ultimately, doesn’t really matter considering that they already got what they wanted.

It hurts though, feeling like a failure this way.

“There’s snot all over your shirt,” Harry whines when he takes his head off Louis’ shoulder.

Louis laughs weakly in response and shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”

“I really thought…” Harry trails off and shakes his head.

He takes a shuddery breath but finds himself unable to continue. It feels stupid now.

“Me too,” Louis sighs before Harry gets a chance to elaborate. “I really thought we were gonna win for a sec there,” he adds, a few silent tears falling onto his cheeks as he leans his forehead into Harry’s with a sigh.

He really wishes he could stop crying, but it feels like all of the stress he’s been accumulating those past few months is coming out now and he can’t control it.

“It’s gonna be okay, though,” Louis says reassuringly. “You know that right?”

Harry nods. He does, that’s the worst part. He knows he’s being completely ridiculous but he can’t stop crying. He just can’t control himself, his breaths becoming more and more erratic with each second that passes.

“Babe?” Louis asks and he sounds worried now.

Harry wishes he could reply, wishes he could reassure him, but he can’t. He can’t speak, he can’t move, he can’t breathe…

“Okay, you have to calm down Harry. You’re scaring me, you have to breathe.”

“Can’t,” Harry manages to let out, a shaky hand reaching for Louis’, gripping tightly to try and anchor himself.

“Don’t be silly Hazza,” Louis replies and he sounds terrified, smells it too, the sweetness of his natural scent turning sour as Harry’s panic increases. “Course you can breathe.”

“Can’t,” Harry repeats because it feels like he can’t. There’s not enough air in the room, not enough air in the whole world. There’s only space enough for the stench of failings in the December night.

“You can babe, we’ll do it together, yeah? Like before the shows,” Louis says a bit more firmly, gaining confidence as he attempts to lead Harry through their breathing exercises, guiding their joined hands to his own chest so that Harry can feel it expand with each purposefully slow breath.

It takes a while but eventually Harry gets there; heart rate back to normal and tear tracks dried on his cheeks.

“Sorry,” he says, cheeks red and voice hoarse.

 

“Don’t…” Louis gulps. “Are you okay?” he asks desperately, stroking the side of Harry’s face tenderly.

“I think so,” Harry nods.

Louis huffs shakily. “You scared me,” he admits in a whisper, pressing his lips against Harry’s temple.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened… I-I’ve never had a full on panic attack before.”

Louis hums, thoughtful. “Well, it happens, yeah? Don’t have to apologize.”

Harry gulps, feeling a bit fuzzy. He’s still upset, burning disappointment throbbing inside of him, but Louis’ support and soft, soothing alpha voice make something like warmth start spreading through his body.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Louis asks, still concerned.

Harry nods, trying to remind himself to see things clearly. They got signed. It’s not the end of the band. They’re going somewhere regardless of their failure on the X-Factor today. He has to focus on that. It’s the only thing that matters and the thought that’s going to help him through the rest of his obligations on the show. It’s a mantra he can’t forget right now. He’s finally managed to calm himself down; he’s going to stay that way.

“Need anything?” Louis continues, staring into Harry’s eyes. “Some water? A snack?”

Harry smiles, tiny and contained in the corner of his mouth.

He’s so glad he met Louis.

“Water would be nice?” Harry replies hesitantly. He’s not quite sure what he needs right now, but it seems like a good place to start.

“I’m on it,” Louis nods. “Why don’t you go sort yourself out in the loo while I get you a bottle? They’re probably gonna be needing us to film some stuff for the Xtra soon...”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Louis repeats before kissing Harry’s nose. “Do  _I_  look a mess?” he asks with a frown.

Harry shakes his head. Louis could never. “You look beautiful,” he replies honestly. “You always do.”

“Sap,” Louis smiles before disappearing into the corridor.

~*~

It’s a weird feeling, packing every single of his things in the X-Factor house. He’s gotten so used to sharing everything with the boys that to untangle the mess that is their belongings feels inherently wrong somehow.

“Whose sweater is this?” Harry asks with a frown, looking at a soft, grey jumper. He’s worn it multiple times and it was under his bed, but he can’t quite remember if he brought it to London from Holmes Chapel or if he simply stole it from a member of his band. It kinda feels like he’s always had it, eerily familiar and comforting against his fingers. It smells like all five of them together, no distinctive odour that could help him identify its owner.

“It’s mine,” Louis replies from the other side of the room where he’s staring at a pile of socks with a puzzled expression on his face.

Ah, Harry thinks. That explains why it feels like home.

“There you go,” Harry says, throwing it at Louis’ head with a smirk on his face.

“Naaaah,” he replies with a grimace, throwing back. “Keep it, babe. Looks better on you anyway.”

Harry blushes happily and puts it on, sniffing at it to try and discern Louis’ particular scent from the mix.

“Ahhh,” Niall says from where he’s sitting crossed-legged on his bed, munching on some carrots. “You two are so cute. I’m gonna miss catching you making out everywhere,” he says sarcastically.

“Don’t worry Nialler,” Louis smiles sweetly at him. “S’just a short Christmas holiday, we’ll be back full force in January when we start recording. You’ll see us snogging again soon enough.”

Niall pouts exaggeratedly. “Ha. Ha. Ha.”

“I’m gonna miss none of you,” Liam mumbles. “Can’t even find my own bloody underwear in this mess.”

Louis and Zayn share a knowing look and Harry tries his hardest not to laugh. He has no idea what they did with Liam’s pants, but if their faces weren’t confirmation enough, the way their scents accentuates and tinges with mischief and satisfaction is a pretty huge clue. Liam, bless his heart, keeps on mumbling, unaware, as he looks through a huge pile of clothes that, judging by their colours, seem to belong to Louis.

“Maybe they’re in the kitchen,” Niall offers nonchalantly, eyes fixed on a carrot.

“Why would they-” Liam stops himself to sigh and turn towards the culprits. “What did you do?” he asks Louis and Zayn.

“Dunno what you’re talking about bro,” Zayn shrugs. “Might wanna check the kitchen, though, if Niall says he saw them…”

Liam huffs dramatically before leaving the room while Louis and Zayn snickers.

“Might wanna not make him want to quit the band before we record an album,” Niall says, imitating Zayn.

“Liam knows it’s just banter… It’s a little going away present,” Zayn argues.

“If you say so,” Niall replies with a shrug.

Some days Harry really admires Niall’s carefree attitude.

“Oi, leave us alone and start packing Horan,” Louis interrupts.

“I’ve been done for ages,” he says, pointing to a corner of the bedroom where a suitcase and a backpack are neatly placed against each other.

Louis frowns, turning his head towards Harry and mouthing “what” and “how” at him. Harry snorts and shrugs before returning to his own packing.

They keep working in silence for a couple of minutes until the door bursts open.

“The oven?” Liam asks, hands filled with his underwear. “Really?”

He’s really annoyed this time. Harry can feel it.

“It’s a going away present!” Louis defends automatically.

“I had just done the laundry.”

“Well that is blatantly untrue, you got Harry to do it for you,” Zayn says with a satisfied smirk on his face.

Liam opens his mouth to protest but Harry happily beats him to it.

“And I don’t mind. I happen to think it’s wonderful prank,” he says proudly, raising an eyebrow towards a smirking Louis.

“I bet you do,” Liam snorts, his irritation starting to fade away.

Louis gets up and walks up to him, cuddling up to his shoulder. “Think of it this way, you’ll have something to remember us by when you clean up your pants at home, yeah?”

Liam’s upper lip twitches as he tries to stop himself from smiling. “We are literally seeing each other in a few weeks, I don’t need anything to remember you lot by.”

Louis pouts exaggeratedly before pretending to sob. “Liam you’re breaking my heart,” he wails dramatically. “Are you saying you won’t be missing us? Your one and only band? Your true family?” he adds, sticking his finger under Liam’s tee and tickling.

Liam shrieks and laughs, trying to squirm away only to be caged in by Zayn and Harry.

“Say you’ll miss us,” Zayn says threateningly before giggling.

“Alright, alright,” Liam says breathlessly. “Maybe I’ll miss you lot a bit.”

Harry smiles when he hears it and hides his face in Louis' shoulder, wrapping an arm around Liam’s waist and cuddling in closer.

He’s going to miss them a bit too.

~*~

“See you soon, yeah?” Louis smiles and Harry nods, pretending he can’t see the tears in Louis’ eyes.

He clears his throat a bit before speaking, tightening his fingers around Louis’. “So soon,” he replies against Louis’ lips before opening his and dragging Louis into a slow sensual kiss.

They kiss for a bit against the empty house’s door. On the other side, their families are waiting with the promise of a few weeks without each other and Harry is already longing for Louis, is already missing him.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” Harry admits with a whisper.

“I know me too. So much. But we’ll see each other soon, I’ll come visit or something.”

 

“Promise?” Harry asks teasingly, heart already racing at the prospect of having enough time to show Louis around Holmes Chapel, to properly introduce him to his hometown and its inhabitants.

Louis smiles. “Promise.”

 

~*~

“I think we should have sex,” Harry blurts out on the phone a few days after Christmas.

He hasn’t seen Louis in the flesh since the show’s finale, but they have a date planned out for next week, their first official date, and Harry wants it to be perfect.

“Right now? On the phone?” Louis scoffs on the line. “Isn’t your mum’s still awake?.”

“No,” Harry says, eyes widened in horror at the thought of his mother hearing this conversation.

Having to go through his heat in the same house as his family has been awkward enough in his lifetime, he certainly doesn’t need them to be involved in his relationship with Louis as well.

“I just mean, soon. Like real soon. As soon as possible.”

Louis chuckles a little in response. “Wow, I didn’t think our sex life was lacking this much but I guess you can’t help it if you miss me.... ”

Harry shakes his head fondly, kicking at the air and hiding his face in his pillow. “I mean… proper sex.”

Louis doesn’t say anything, doesn’t reply at all, and Harry can barely hear him breathing on the line.

“I want you to knot me,” Harry adds, bringing his index to his mouth to bite at it, counting the seconds before Louis starts speaking again.

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

_Four._

_Five._

“I… hum,” Louis clears his throat before continuing. “I thought we were waiting for your heat next month?” he asks slowly, voice shaking a little.

It was the original plan of course. Not that they’d discussed it explicitly beyond Harry mentioning the date in passing, but they had both agreed to take things slow after the show, to compensate for the intensity of the first few weeks of their relationship. Harry can’t blame Louis for feeling confused at the request.

“I don’t want…” Harry trails off, unsure how to explain himself clearly. It’s so important to him and the last thing he wants is to muck things up by not saying it properly. “You have to understand that it means something to me,” is what he ends up choosing to say, trying to keep his voice steady and to not get too emotional too quickly. “It means something to me that we’re gonna do this together.”

And it does. It really does. Because Harry’s never had someone like Louis in his life before. He’s never had someone who makes his whole world brighter just by existing, someone he wants to take care of and who wants to take care of him in return, someone he connects with body and soul… It might be too early for him to feel this way, but he can’t help himself. He’s felt it from the start, this unexplainable feeling that Louis is everything.

“It means something to me too," Louis says insistently. “Harry, it means so much-”

“I don’t want the first time we do this to be when I’m in heat” Harry interrupts while he has the courage to say it. “I’m…” Harry feels himself redden and he wishes he wasn’t embarrassed about it because it's his biology and it happens to all the omegas around the world, but he is. He’s so embarrassed. “I don't know what I'm saying half of the time and it can feel really degrading," he manages to get out quickly, glad Louis isn’t physically there to see him while he admits those things. "And I don't want that to be our first time together... I want to actually remember it."

"Of course," Louis replies when Harry trails off with a tiny shrug. "Whatever you want. I don't want you to feel..." Louis struggles a little, awkwardness coming off of him in waves. "I want it to be a good for both of us," he finally says. “It's just you've been saying things about your heat coming up and all so I assumed it would happen then but maybe it is best if I know what I'm doing before that anyway if I want to help you through it properly."

"S'not that hard, just got to dick me real good a couple of times and it's gone like magic," Harry replies, bitter about it as always.

"Hmmm, proper romantic," Louis scoffs and he’s rolling his eyes. Harry can’t see him but he knows he is.

"It's for breeding, s'not meant to be romantic."

“Right, hence your urgency,” Louis whispers teasingly. “A proper first time for any couple can’t be anything but romantic...”

“I’m not urgent,” Harry protests even though he loves being teased like this, especially by Louis.

“It’s alright,” Louis says and Harry can hear the smile in his voice when he does. It’s one of his top five favourite things about him, smacked in between his eyelashes and his fierce loyalty. “I want it to be romantic too, I love you.”

“You referred to us as a couple,” Harry singsongs, heart dancing gracefully in his chest.  _Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou_ , it screams with each leap. “You’ve never done that before.”

“I’ve also never said I loved you before but I don’t see you making a fuss about that,” Louis huffs quietly and the thought of him ruffled in bed trying not to wake up his sisters with his indignation is almost too cute for Harry to handle. His big strong alpha...

"But it's so much more amusing to hear you freak out about it than replying," Harry says happily.

"What?" Louis squeaks loudly before starting to whisper again. "Shit. First of all, I'm not freaking out and second of all you're gonna make me wake up the twins and my mother will literally skin me alive and then who is going to knot romantically?"

"True," Harry nods, squirming to find a more comfortable position in bed. His body feels so little and constraining all of a sudden; like there’s not enough room for all the good things he’s feeling. He settles on his back, left arm dangling off the bed and eyed fixed on his white ceiling. "In that case, I guess I should say that I love you too.”

"How kind of you to indulge me, babe."

"You're welcome," Harry shrugs, forgetting momentarily that Louis can't actually seem him.

"You're a menace, you know that?" Louis whispers and the fondness in his voice makes Harry's inside feel like actual goo; like he's been sliced open and everything that he is, everything that matters, has just been melted and started dripping out for the whole world to see. He's never loved the thought of feeling exposed before but if it were about his feelings for Louis, Harry thinks he might not mind it as much.

"Yeah, but a menace who loves you and you love back.”

"I'm gonna romantically dick you so hard Harry Styles, you won't know what hit you. I'm even gonna wine and dine you beforehand, do it proper."

  
Harry clears his throat before replying, red cheeks and a tiny smile in the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you."

 

**_ January 2011 _ **

 

They stumble into Harry’s house giggling.

 

“Anyone we should be worried about waking up?” Louis asks teasingly as they fumble through the darkness of the living room.

 

“No,” Harry replies unnecessarily. He’s been planning a romantic getaway for his mother and Robin for days now, he even enlisted Louis’ help to select the bed and breakfast he was going to send them off to. Hell, Harry even complained to him about having to bribe Gemma into sleeping at one of her friends’. They’re completely alone and Louis knows it.

 

“Interesting,” he whispers, grabbing Harry’s waist and letting his thumb dig into his hipbone before slowly walking him backwards until his back hits a wall.

 

“Mm-mmm,” Harry hums against Louis’ lips, feeling his cock starting to harden just from the feeling of Louis’ fingers on his body.  

 

“Haven’t changed your mind?” Louis asks, eyes serious as they search Harry’s.

 

“I’ve been counting down the minutes,” Harry smirks, dragging Louis into a kiss, hanging onto his neck tightly.

 

He feels Louis smiling against his lips before kissing back fiercely, the wet, messy noises the only things breaking the silence of the house.

 

“We…” Harry pants a bit when he feels Louis’ hand sliding between the wall and his body to grab at one of his arse cheeks. “We should go upstairs,” he says quickly when he feels himself starting to get wet.

 

“Lead the way,” Louis replies with a tiny peck on Harry’s nose.

 

They start shedding clothes off as soon as the bedroom’s door closes behind them.

 

“Nice decor,” Louis teases as he helps Harry out of his tee shirt.

 

“Shut it. Gandalf is amazing okay!”

 

“Of course,” Louis laughs, dropping the tee dramatically behind him and pushing Harry on the bed before taking off his own top. He does a little wiggle, making Harry blush and laugh, then starts unbuttoning his trousers, taking them off quickly and revealing the impressive bulge in his pants.

 

Harry’s breath hitches and he bites his lips, eyes locked on the prize. It’s not secret that alphas are well endowed. He’s felt that specific evolutionary particularity many times before between his heats and fooling around in the X-Factor house with Louis. Tonight though, things are different. Tonight, he’s chosen this. They’re completely alone, free to do whatever they want, free to do everything and Harry is finally going to be knotted by a boy he loves.

 

Louis smirks at him, clearly trying to appear cocky despite his nerves, and grabs his cock, giving it a tug through the fabric.

 

Harry takes a quivery breath and starts fumbling with the button of his jeans, gaze never leaving the movement of Louis’ wrist as he pleasures himself. He struggles with his zipper for a few seconds before Louis laughs fondly, taking a few steps to reach the bed and starts straddling Harry’s thighs. He pushes his hands away, slowly tangling their fingers together and bringing their joined hands to rest next to Harry’s head on the mattress.

 

“Let me,” he says against Harry’s lips.

 

Harry kisses him instead of replying, slow and sensual. They have all the time in the world and for once Harry wants to enjoy Louis’ tongue against his, his teeth biting at Harry’s lower lip and their breaths intertwining. For so long they had nothing but stolen minutes in dark cupboards where they kissed and rubbed against each other furiously, now he gets to feel the slow drag of Louis’ tongue licking inside his mouth and sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. He can feel his slick soaking through his boxers as the kiss intensifies and Louis starts rolling his hips, rubbing their clothed erections together.

 

Louis pulls away slowly, a single string of spit connecting them for a second. He gently rubs at Harry’s wrists, feathery touches with his thumbs, before sliding his hands down Harry’s arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps on his pale skin.

 

Louis smirks when he notices, raising amused eyebrows in response.

 

“Stop it,” Harry mumbles.

 

“How could I?” Louis asks, letting his hands wandering down Harry’s chest until he reaches the waistband of his jeans. “When you blush so prettily?”

 

Harry feels himself blushing even harder and he quickly brings his hands to his face to try and hide it.

 

“Ah,” Louis whispers against his temple. “There it is,” he adds as he lowers the zipper of Harry’s jeans and starts helping him taking them off. “That pretty blush.”

 

Harry’s heart skips a beat at the words and he takes his hands off his face. For a second, he thinks the sight of Louis between his legs, smiling and golden and beautiful, is going to be too much. His boxers are soiled; clinging wetly to the head of his dick where he’s leaked precome and sticking where his arse cheeks meet his thighs. He needs Louis inside of him, is burning with it, and it’s almost insufferable to be so close and yet still having to wait.

 

He takes a shuddery breath, eyes closing for a moment, before reaching down and sliding his boxers off his legs, kicking them at the bottom of his bed where his blankets are all bunched up together.

 

“How do you want to do this?” Louis asks with a gasp when he feels Harry’s hands on his back.

 

The air around them has started smelling like a perfect combination of their scent, sweet and sour and overwhelming.

 

“Like this,” Harry whispers, wrapping his legs around Louis’ waist, his fingers slippery from the sweat on the skin of Louis’ back. “Wanna see you.”

 

“Okay,” Louis nods shakily. He gulps, wide-eyed and heart beating wildly.

 

“S’okay,” Harry says reassuringly, hips bucking up.

 

Louis nods again, kissing Harry before sitting back on his heels and rubbing his shaky hands on Harry’s spread inner thighs.

 

This is already so different from what he’s experienced during his heat; those hurried fumblings in the dark where Harry has to breathe through the pillows, his trousers stuck around his knees, going _fast fast fast_ to get rid of this nasty desperation lighting his skin on fire. It’s almost too much.

 

“Look at you babe,” Louis says tenderly, one hand wrapping around Harry’s cock. He starts stroking him slowly, teasingly.

 

“Lou,” Harry moans, feeling himself getting wetter and wetter with each touch of Louis’ hands.

 

“Yes?” Louis asks before lowering himself to bite Harry’s right thigh. Harry’s hips buck up in response and Louis chuckles, clearly amused by his reaction, before pressing a soothing kiss on the bite.

 

“Get on with it.”

 

“Nah,” Louis says with a shrug. “I’m taking my time here. Proper romantic and all, I did promise.”

 

“You -” Harry gasps and stops speaking when he feels two of Louis’ fingers against his dripping hole. They stroke at his rim tantalizingly for a few seconds before slipping in easily.

 

“Fuck,” Louis groans. “You’re really wet,” he says, eyes locked on where his fingers are disappearing into Harry’s body.

 

“S’kinda the whole point,” Harry says shakily, moaning and hips snapping when Louis curls his fingers just right. The teasing might actually kill him.

 

Louis laughs, looking a bit embarrassed. “I know,” he says with a tiny shake of his head. “I just… I’ve never seen it before.”

 

Normally, talks of his biology make Harry feel beyond awkward and embarrassed, but with the awed way Louis is staring at him, he can help the rush of pride and want spreading through his body.

 

“I’m ready,” Harry says hoarsely, trying to hurry Louis along. “Please, Lou.”

 

“Right,” Louis pants, sliding his fingers out of Harry’s hole and leaning down to suck on the head of his cock.

 

Harry whines, his thighs shaking under Louis’ hands. “Louis,” he moans, attempting to sound stern but it comes out more desperate than ever.

 

Louis ignores him for a few seconds, humming around Harry’s dick happily, one of his arms draped on Harry’s belly to stop him from squirming.

 

“Lou,” Harry gasps pleadingly, a bit embarrassed at how turned on he feels at the thought of Louis holding him down.

 

Louis licks the underside of Harry’s cock one last time before pulling off. “Alright, babe. No more teasing,” he says firmly, getting on his knees and giving Harry a fond, but nervous look.

 

He gets up on his knees, pulls his pants down and throws them somewhere on Harry’s floor with a shrug that makes Harry smile.

 

“Alright,” Louis says again and Harry can smell the way his nerves gets more prominent, heightened as he starts lowering himself over Harry, placing one hand near his head and the other grabbing his cock to guide it in.

 

“Don’t be nervous.”

 

“I’m not,” Louis lies, stopping in his movement. Harry can feel the tip of his dick against his arse cheek, so close yet so far.

 

“You are, but it’s okay,” Harry replies with a tiny kiss high on Louis’ cheekbone. “I don’t care that you’ve never done this.”

 

“I just… I want-”

 

“I know,” Harry interrupts soothingly. “I know. But it’s okay.”

 

Louis’ eyes widen in response. He gives Harry a tiny nod before finally sliding in, slowly, inch by inch. Harry moans, tightening his legs around Louis’ waist and reaching up to grab at his hair, guiding him into a bruising kiss. Louis barely gives him time to adjust, starts thrusting in and out with slow rolls of his hips and one of his hands gripping at Harry’s thigh.

 

He moans loudly into Louis’ mouth.

 

“Fuck,” Louis pants, eyes fixed where they’re joined. “You’re so…” He shakes head his disbelievingly. “Look at you,” he sighs, trailing his eyes all over Harry’s body, taking his time to stare at his parted thighs, his hard pink cock pressing against his belly before finally locking their gaze together. “You’re so pretty.”

 

Harry whines, clenching tight around Louis’ dick in response. He can feel it throbbing already, his knot starting to fatten up, a hint of what’s to come.

 

“You smell amazing,” Louis continues in a whine, dropping his head into Harry’s neck and nibbling at his sweaty skin. He starts fucking into him harder, hitting his spot over and over again.

 

Harry gasps when he feels Louis biting his neck possessively. He’s close already, too close, and he drops one shaky hand between their bodies to wrap it around his cock, unable to resist the urge to stroke himself in times with Louis’ thrusts.

 

“Fuck,” Harry groans when he feels the base of Louis’ cock swelling to its full size, his knot finally popping and spurting come inside him.

 

Louis is shaking with the intensity of it, panting into Harry’s neck as he keeps coming and coming. He’s mumbling into Harry’s skin, mouthing against his shoulder and it takes him a while to understand what he’s saying, to catch the soft “you’re mine” Louis is tenderly pressing into his skin, but when he does, that’s what finally takes him over the edge. He whines, high and loud, his hips bucking up as he bursts over his hand to the feeling of Louis still coming inside of him.

 

“Baby,” Louis sighs into his ears, turning his head to kiss low on Harry’s jaw, sweet and tender as the last wave of his come spills. He lowers his face, cheek pillowed on Harry’s chest, eyes closed and face completely relaxed.

 

Harry lets go of his cock when he feels it and wraps both of his arms around Louis’ waist, his come-covered hand spread on Louis’ arse cheek.

 

“Thank you,” Harry whispers, eyes fluttering and still panting, his lips pressed against Louis’ hair.

 

He feels Louis shaking his head, his cold nose dragging against Harry’s torso. “No,” he replies in a hoarse voice before raising his head. “Thank _you,_ ” Louis says pointedly, reaching up to stroke a thumb against Harry’s cheeks.

 

Harry feels himself smile softly in response, Louis’ thumb now nesting into his dimple. “I love you.”

 

“I love you too Hazza,” Louis says, reaching up to press a chaste kiss on Harry’s mouth before biting teasingly at his lower lip.

 

Harry gasps, hips bucking and making Louis jostle inside of him. His puffed up knot is still sensitive and they both wince as it catches against Harry’s rim.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry mumbles between kisses on Louis’ cheeks. He tightens the arm he has wrapped around Louis’ back, making sure they’re properly pressed together and that they won’t move again.

 

“You okay?” Louis asks. “You comfy?”

 

Harry hums his agreement. “How long is it ‘til you can pull out?” he asks sleepily.

 

Louis blushes a little. “I’m not sure,” he admits shyly.

 

“S’okay,” Harry slurs, fighting to keep his eyes open. “We’ll wait it out.”

 

~*~

 

Harry wakes up the next morning to the sound of Louis singing somewhere in his house.

 

He smiles, eyes still closed, and cuddles up into his pillow, breathing in the sweet, heady mixture of their scents. It feels right to be wrapped up in nothing but the two of them, without the intrusive smells of their bandmates to ruin it.

 

He’s about to try and convince himself to get up when he hears the bedroom door open and Louis trying to sneakily slip inside.

 

There’s a loud bang followed by a quick “ow” and “fuck” that has Harry giggling. He finally opens his eyes and turns around taking in the mess Louis has made.

 

“Oi, don’t make fun of me,” Louis calls, walking around Harry’s swivel chair, trying to balance a plate with two bowls and two spoons on it in one hand and a mug in the other. It’s fallen onto the floor, clearly the culprit of Louis’ morning misfortune.

 

“What’s all this then?” Harry asks, choosing to ignore Louis’ incident.

 

“Breakfast in bed!” Louis replies happily, dropping the plate carefully on Harry’s bed before sliding in next to him, mug still in hand.

 

Harry smiles and peers into the bowls curiously. He giggles when he notices what appears to be coco pops and frosties mixed together in each bowl.

 

“Did you put two cereals in?” Harry asks sceptically with a teasing smile.

 

“It’s a Tomlinson original, one of me most famous recipe. We’ll have to share the tea I’m afraid, not enough hands,” Louis says with a shrug, taking a sip out of the mug and offering it to Harry.

 

Harry takes a gulp, grimaces at the bitterness and hands it back.

 

“Don’t make faces at my tea Styles.”

 

“I let you put your cock in me, the polite thing to do would have been to make the tea the way I like it,” Harry teases, reaching for one of the bowl and spoon.

 

“Excuse you, I made you breakfast in bed. That’s proper hook-up etiquette that.”

 

“Oh is that what this is then? A hook-up?” Harry says, pretending to be offended. He buries his face into the cereal bowl, taking a huge bite and refusing to look at Louis. He can feel the heaviness of his gaze on his face and it takes everything he has to resist looking back.

 

“Love-making,” Louis immediately corrects. “It’s proper love-making etiquette.”

 

“Don’t be so cheesy,” Harry replies with an awkward chuckle, blushing at the way his scent becomes so sharply pleased between them that even an alpha could smell it.

 

“You love it,” Louis argues, dropping his head on Harry’s shoulder and pressing a kiss on the bruise he left on Harry’s neck the night before.

 

It makes him shiver and Louis chuckles when he sees it happening.

 

“How do you like my mix-up then?” he asks softly. He wraps an arm around Harry’s waist and starts tracing his fingers in mindless patterns on his love handles.

 

“Is that the official name?” Harry asks with a mouthful. “A mix-up?”

 

“Mmm-mm.”

 

Truth is, it’s a ridiculous idea and a ridiculous name, but it’s delicious and so thoughtful that it makes Harry’s heart clench happily with each bite. He’d eat it gladly every morning for the rest of his life if he were completely honest with himself. Most alphas don’t really bother with the cooking, that’s what they have bonds for after all. Or at least according to all the home studies and sex ed classes Harry had in school. It’s just… This is different than what he always expected.

 

“I love it,” he says, turning his head to rub his nose against Louis’.

 

“I love _you,_ ” Louis replies pointedly.

 

Good different.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come and say hi to me on [tumblr](http://mediawhorefics.tumblr.com) and if you liked, please consider [reblogging](http://mediawhorefics.tumblr.com/post/132429607675/title-all-these-lights-rating-explicit-pairing) :):)


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